


When the Bough Breaks

by seanchaidh



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Children, Episode Remix, Gen, M/M, Mass Suicide, Minor Character Death, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:13:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seanchaidh/pseuds/seanchaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AOS Remix of Star Trek: The Original Series episode, "And the Children Shall Lead," written by Edward J. Lakso.</p><p>When the Enterprise goes to pick Joanna McCoy up from an archaeological survey, in order to spend quality time with her dad, they find a settlement full of dead adults, and strangely unaffected children.  What drove the adults to madness, and is the Enterprise crew condemned to the same fate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Bough Breaks

**When the Bough Breaks**

 

_Captain's Log, Stardate 2260.222._

 

_We're presently six hours out from Triacus, where we will be delivering bi-annual supplies to the recently established Starnes Expedition, as well as conducting their routine medical exams over the course of two days. In addition to the standard protocols related to checking in on a colony, I'm looking forward to seeing the progress that the expedition has made in its archaeological remains. I understand that the settlement is in the boundary of what seems to be a large city belonging to a long vanished civilization that may have been indigenous to Triacus. Mr. Spock shares my fascination, and we've already been promised a tour by Dr. Starnes himself._

 

_In the meantime, we're also picking up a special guest. Dr. McCoy's daughter, Joanna, is currently there with her mother and step-father, and a previous arrangement has been made for Joanna to come with us as far as Starbase Two before father and daughter head to Earth on their own for shore leave. It's the first time we've had a child aboard for an extended amount of time, and although we've had every clearance from Starfleet to keep Joanna here for the two weeks, it's still going to be unusual having her on board. It'll be her first time aboard the Enterprise, and I hope she likes it and understands a little more about why her father's in space. It's an insight I wish I'd had when I was her age._

 

_[Computer, delete the last line, and end log.]_

 

_***_

 

"Whatever you do," Bones snapped as Jim came into his quarters, "don't touch anything."

 

"I wasn't going to," Jim said, and held up his hands just in case the temptation struck. Over the course of the last week, Bones had added a few extra details to the living room, all in anticipation of his daughter's arrival. They were mostly little touches, things that a preteen girl might appreciate, that made the usually sparsely-decorated room feel a bit more homely, and Jim had to admit he liked the effect. "I'm just here to tell you that we're two hours from arrival, or if you want to be more precise, one hour, forty-fourish minutes and an odd number of seconds."

 

"If I wanted precision, I'd ask a Vulcan," Bones muttered, going to standing the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. "Damn it, something's missing, but I can't decide what else this place needs."

 

"Relax," Jim said as he came up behind him and slipped his arms around Bones' waist. Behind closed doors, he could indulge in physical affection, and Bones needed it at the moment. Jim could feel the nervous energy thrumming through him. "You weren't this worried when Joanna came to visit you at the Academy."

 

"That was different," Bones said, but at least he was leaning back into Jim's grip.

 

"Well, yeah," he said. "San Francisco had lots of things to offer when you two wanted to escape campus and go exploring. It had all the excitement an eight year old might want to experience with her old dad, but now that we're on a starship, there's only so much fun for an eleven year old to have."

 

"There are times I feel like you're reading my mind and it's gotten to be exceptionally disturbing," Bones said, his characteristic dryness overwhelming his concern for the moment, but at least he was smiling. "And who said anything about being old?"

 

"You do, frequently," Jim teased. "You know she'll love whatever you have ready for her."

 

"I know," Bones agreed with a sigh, but that didn't stop him from visually double-checking the details again. "This is different, though."

 

"So you've said repeatedly," Jim teased, "but then again, she's been on another planet for two months. A planet that's decidedly not Earth without all the conveniences she's used to. You heard what she said in her last message. It's interesting, but there's not a lot for her to do and even the kids there are younger. She's probably ready for a change of scene even if it's just the inside of the most awesome starship ever built."

 

That made Bones laugh, and he turned within the circle of Jim's arms to face him. "As wrought with hyperbole as that statement might be, you've got a point."

 

"Of course I do," Jim said.

 

"We're picking her up from a planet," Bones murmured a moment later, and from the tone of voice, he was still amused at the thought. "When did my kid get to be so blase about interstellar travel? My folks had to tranquilize me just so we could have a vacation on Mars, but my ex and her new husband go on a research trip to a colony and Joanna's loving every minute of it."

 

At least that was the impression they were getting from the semi-regular messages she'd been sending since leaving Earth. While she favoured her father when it came to her looks, Joanna didn't have any of Bones' apprehensions about space, and she was savouring the experience with an intensity that reminded Jim a lot of himself. The thought left him with a warm knot of pride in his chest.

 

"If she's got space legs this early," Jim said, "you know she's going to want to go back up again."

 

Bones leaned against him with a sigh. "I know, but that's not what I'm worried about. I'm more concerned that she's going to find the Enterprise boring after all the excitement."

 

"And think that you're boring, too?" Jim teased.

 

"Maybe," Bones admitted.

 

"She's too young for that," Jim said, "and anyway, if she does, we'll just stick her with Spock for a little while. That'll cure her for the immediate future."

 

That got the desired reaction out of Bones as he chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind. I still can't believe that I get her for three weeks and she'll be here on the Enterprise."

 

"It'll be good," Jim promised, and stole a kiss. He had a sense they'd be scarce in the weeks to come.

 

"Yeah," Bones murmured against his lips. "I know I'm complaining a lot right now, but really, thank you for suggesting this whole plan in the first place. I really appreciate that."

 

"Another brilliant idea thanks to James T. Kirk," Jim told him, smirking just enough to show that he was teasing. "But you're more than welcome, Bones. You know, since your kid's going to be here for a while, there's not going to be a lot of time for the two of us to do anything together."

 

This time, Bones' eye roll was more affectionate. "Poor baby. Don't you need to be captain right now?"

 

"They know to call if they need me," Jim said.

 

"Well, then." Bones backed him up against the wall and nuzzled at Jim's throat. "Nothing too long, I suppose. I don't mind taking advantage of the captain if it's amenable to his schedule."

 

"Make that very amenable," Jim chuckled, and lifted his arms as Bones tugged up his shirts. He loved it when Bones' very capable hands smoothed over his skin, followed by his lips. Jim closed his eyes, allowing himself the moment to savour the attention, when the comm unit went off.

 

"Captain to bridge." Spock's voice interrupted the moment further.

 

Jim sighed and after depositing a gentle kiss to Bones' head, leaned over to hit the speaker. "Kirk here. What's going on?"

 

"We have picked up a distress signal from Triacus," Spock said. "It is automated, without specification about its status."

 

"Increase our speed to warp factor six," Jim said. "I'll be right down. See if we can raise them on the comm line and find out exactly what's happening."

 

As Spock signed off, Jim caught the expression on Bones' face shifting from mild annoyance to extreme concern. He handed Jim's shirts back to him, and then retreated behind neutral medical professionalism. "I'll have a medical team ready to go for our arrival."

 

"I know," Jim said, and delayed just a moment longer. "It's probably nothing, but I'll send down any information we get."

 

"In our experience, when has any emergency turned out to be nothing?" Bones asked.

 

"Maybe this time it will," Jim said, but he knew from Bones' very tight smile that while the words were appreciated, it wasn't helping.

 

_*_

 

Their response to the distress signal meant that they arrived at Triacus a full thirty minutes earlier than scheduled. The mood on the bridge was tense as they came into orbit, and Jim kept turning in his command chair to see if Nyota had detected something on the communications channels. From the expression on her face, however, he knew it was quiet except for the repeating beacon.

 

"Speculation, Mr. Spock?" Jim asks.

 

"None at this time," Spock said. "I reviewed Dr. Starnes' career and previous expeditions. He has led three other missions before Triacus, and all were noteworthy in the remarkable low casualty rate in regards to injuries and other occurrences. There are ninety persons present on the planet surface, including twelve children."

 

"Plus Joanna," Jim said, although he knew Spock was very aware of the situation. He tapped his fingers anxiously for a long moment. "Her stepfather's an archaeologist who was invited to help out with the expedition."

 

"I am familiar with the details of the various expedition members," Spock said, which wasn't that much of a surprise. He peered into his viewer and the line of his shoulders stiffened. "Captain, I now have intelligence from the planet's surface. I am scanning fifty lives, and most are weakening as we speak."

 

"Illness?" Jim asks, sitting up straight in his chair.

 

"Inconclusive," Spock said, "but I suggest full contamination outfits for the away team."

 

"Agreed," Jim said, and punched in commands into the computer set into his armrest. "Mr. Chekov, you'll be joining me on the away team. Mr. Spock, you've got command. I want you to continue monitoring the situation and advise us of anything pertinent. We'll keep an open comm line with you. Lt. Uhura, keep trying to contact Starnes and let me know the instant you have a connection."

 

He waited long enough to hear their acknowledgements before pushing himself up toward the turbolift. Chekov fell into step beside him, keeping silent on the ride down the transporter room. They stopped long enough to change into the contamination suits, which were red, and a hell of a lot better than the clunky ones they'd trained with at the Academy.

 

"How do you wish to proceed with this, Captain?" Chekov asked finally.

 

"I'll take down the first wave," Jim said a moment later, adjusting his gloves. "You'll follow with the second as soon as we have the place secured. The medical team will go down with you."

 

Chekov nodded, eyes big and blue behind the suit's protective face plate. "Aye, sir. Is Dr. McCoy going down with us?"

 

The thought occurred to him only then that it might not be a great idea to send Bones down, but forcing him to stay behind was even less appealing. Bones would simply wear a rut in the deck and snap at anyone who dared to talk to him; it was better to send him where he could at least participate in the search. Besides, as Bones and his medical team came to join them in the transporter room, there was a carefully neutral expression on his face, one that would've fooled even a Vulcan.

 

There wasn't much to brief the team with when the security detail showed up, and Jim simply relayed the limited intelligence they had and the details of the plan. Jim took his place on the transporter pad, glanced at Bones one more time and hoped with everything he had that when he next had the chance to talk to him, he'd have good news.

 

"Energize," he ordered.

 

He immediately had to squint when he rematerialized on the surface of Triacus. It was mid-afternoon local time, and a dry heat lay heavily over the settlement that Jim could feel through the layers of his suit. Once his eyes adjusted, he took a look around at what the Starnes Expedition had created since arriving a few years before.

 

The buildings were the typical metal constructions that new colonies used when first establishing themselves, but these looked like they weren't about to be replaced anytime soon. From his earlier research, Jim knew there was a communal mess hall situated in the middle, and individual lodgings for both families and single personnel scattered around the centre. The archaeological processing labs were set together off to Jim's right, in order to be closer to the dig sites.

 

And there was no one out and about to greet them.

 

"The life signs are coming from that direction," Weir said, pointing toward the main part of the settlement. "They're fading as we speak."

 

Ordering the team to follow him, Jim walked quickly in that direction. Nothing seemed out of place, but he knew there was something not right about the situation. At the centre of the clearing was a building designated with a large sign saying "mess." The main door was ajar, and Jim carefully opened it.

 

"Hello?" he called.

 

Nothing, or at least he thought there was nothing until he heard something fall. He hurried forward, knowing the guards were right on his six, and at the end of the short corridor he found the communal eating area. The residents were here, and it was something Jim wasn't going to forget for a very long time. Bodies were everywhere, some slumped forward against the tables, and others sprawled on the floor.

 

"Kirk to Enterprise," he said, palming his comm through his suit, "we've located the colonists. Send the medical team to these coordinates. We'll keep you updated."

 

He didn't stop to hear the acknowledgement, and instead ordered his team to start looking for survivors. The five guards went toward separate areas of the room, and Jim leaned down to investigate the body closest to him. He recognized the man immediately as Dr. Starnes, and he was still alive.

 

"Starnes," he said, shaking the man gently and then tapping his face. It was enough to rouse him, which gave Jim the hope that he wasn't too far gone, but from the disoriented look on his face, it might've been a wild hope. "Dr. Starnes, I'm Jim Kirk from the Enterprise. You were expecting us."

 

"Kirk," the other man slurred, and rolled his eyes as though he was having difficulty focusing on Jim's face. "You're early."

 

"We got your distress signal," Jim told him. "What happened? Why is everyone dying?"

 

Starnes tried to wet his lips with a dry tongue. "Only way we could make it stop."

 

"Make what stop?" Jim asked.

 

"Started when we began excavating the new squares," Starnes rasped. "Thought it was just the environment..."

 

"Thought what was?" Jim knew his voice was getting louder, but he wasn't getting the answers that he needed. "I need to know what happened, Starnes, so we can help the rest of your people."

 

"Cave..." Starnes managed, and that was the limit of his endurance. He slumped back, but he wasn't dead yet. Jim could feel the pulse moving weakly in his throat, and he looked as one of the guards suddenly called for him. "What is it, Weir?"

 

"There are cups of something liquid in front of them," the guard said, frowning. "I'm conserving a sample for the medical team, but there's something else, sir. These are all adults. Didn't the brief say there were children here?"

 

That made Jim study the room again, and Weir had a point. There were only adults present, and while that gave Jim a bit of relief, he was still far from satisfied. He touched the communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise, the second team can beam down now, and prepare for more teams to follow. Weir, you're with me. We'll keep securing the perimeter in case something else is happening, The rest of you, wait for the medical team and help them in whatever way they request."

 

He was just about at the door when he heard the transporter, and while he wanted to delay long enough to tell Bones that Joanna wasn't there, he was sure that Bones would figure it out. He also wondered which of the women were Jocelyn. They'd never met, and it was hard to make out facial features at the moment that might correspond with his mental memory of having seen pictures of Bones' ex-wife.

 

They moved methodically through the camp, going clockwise from the front door of the mess. Only in one of the living quarters did they find more bodies, two men who'd been dead for a few hours from the rigidity of their bodies. There didn't seem to have been any violence.

 

"I don't like this," Weir murmured.

 

"Neither do I," Jim said, "but we need to find those kids."

 

"I understand that Dr. McCoy's daughter is here," Weir continued in a quiet voice.

 

"That's right," Jim said, and pointed for the door. "Let's keep going."

 

A few minutes later, there was a call from Bones. "It's a case of acute poisoning through I can't tell you just what it is yet. So you can remove your suits if you'd like. I'm not exactly wanting to deal with heat stroke on top of all this."

 

The grumbles didn't have his usual fire associated with it, and Jim felt his shoulders tensing in sympathy. "Thanks, Bones, that's a small piece of good news."

 

The snort carried clearly over the line. "If you can call it that. We've started to transport the wounded up to the ship so we can figure out this goddamn mess and find a way to cure them. I'm also sending Chekov over to join you so he doesn't stand over my shoulder like a worried nanny."

 

"That's good, and I can use the extra hands," Jim said, and then he had to ask. "Have you found Jocelyn?"

 

The pause before his answer told Jim everything he needed to know, especially when Bones' reply was carefully neutral. "She's here. McCoy out."

 

He very carefully avoided Weir's gaze as he pocketed his comm. They paused to take off their head gear, and it was long enough for Chekov to join them. The dry air felt good against Jim's head, and he hooked the hood to his belt. He saw Chekov running a hand through his curls, his cheeks pink from the heat as he looked around them for the first time.

 

"What happened here?" he asked, accent thickening from emotion.

 

"Let's find out," Jim said.

 

"The excavation is in that direction," Weir said, pointing.

 

It made sense to walk over and investigate, and Jim found himself whistling as he made out the ruins carefully exposed in the soil. He knew from Starnes' reports that this was only a percentage of what once existed on Triacus, and what was exposed was already looking impressive. His brief dabbling in construction in Iowa had left him with enough experience to admire the stone foundations peeking out of the excavation squares.

 

"The notes said that this culture had space flight capabilities," Chekov said, softly. "That is hard to believe from a pile of stones."

 

"It's the stones that remain the longest," Jim said, and then allowed himself the briefest moment to tease him. "Besides, didn't the Russians do the very same thing back in the twentieth century?"

 

"Da, but that was something different," Chekov began, but whatever he wanted to say was interrupted as he frowned at his tricorder. "Keptin, I'm picking up life signs that were not there previously."

 

"The kids?" he asked.

 

"I believe so," he said. "In that direction."

 

Chekov was pointing directly into the heart of the ruins, which didn't surprise Jim in the least. He'd loved the old barn on the Kirk farm when he was growing up, and he imagined the remains of ancient buildings would hold the same appeal. Besides, he had a hunch they might've retreated to the ruins while whatever was happening to their parents.

 

He took a few careful steps inside the ruined complex, but there was nothing moving except for his team. He put his hands up to his mouth, cupping them so the sound of his voice could carry. "This is Captain Kirk of the Enterprise," he called. "I need you to come out now. You're safe now, we're here to help you!"

 

His words echoed off the ancient surfaces, but there was no sign of life. He glanced at Chekov and Weir, and felt inspired to take a different approach.

 

"Come out, come out wherever you are!"

 

This time, he had results. There were a few childish voices of protest coming from the ruins, but suddenly from the different parts of the ruins a handful of children appeared. They were dusty and their clothes showing evidence of having crawled around in the dirt, but as far as he could tell they seemed perfectly healthy.

 

The complete opposite of their parents.

 

There were twelve in all, and Jim was about to open his mouth and call again when he realized that one of the last children to emerge was Joanna McCoy. There was no mistaking those hazel eyes or the heart-shaped face, and Jim allowed himself a breath of relief as he took three large steps toward her.

 

"Thank god you're okay," he said, and crouched down in front of her.

 

She stared at him for a few moments, a frown that was reminiscent of her father's. "What are you doing here, Jim?"

 

"We're here to pick you up," he said, carefully, and aware of Chekov standing nearby. "We're here a little early and we were looking all over for you. Are you all right? All of you?"

 

"Who's the man, Joanna?" one of the children asked. He was a kid who looked to be a little younger than her, taller with freckles and red hair that stuck out in all directions. "He interrupted our game."

 

"This is my friend Jim," she told him. "He's captain of the ship that my daddy works on."

 

"I thought that was your daddy in the camp?" one of the little girls asked.

 

Joanna sighed. "No, that's my stepdad. I told you that before. My real dad is a doctor."

 

"And he's waiting for me to come back with you," Jim said. "How long have you been playing out here?"

 

"A while," the redheaded boy said, cagily, while eyeing Jim with a suspicion that a boy his age shouldn't have had.

 

"What's your name?" Jim asked, recognizing the authority the kid was exhibiting.

 

"Tommy," he said. "Tommy Starnes. My dad runs this place, so there's nothing wrong with us going through the buildings if we want to. Besides, it's boring with the adults."

 

A few of the younger children chimed in with a chorus of borings, while Chekov looked at Jim with a stunned expression. "They do not know what has happened in the buildings."

 

"Sure we do," Tommy said, and his next words gave Jim goosebumps. "Why do you think we're out here playing?"

 

_*_

This was the closest Leonard had ever come to living through a nightmare. He'd been through horrible circumstances before, like the terrifying uncertainty that came from losing his father, ending his marriage and starting from scratch in Starfleet. This, however was every fear manifest and forcing him to cope without losing his sanity.

 

He really should've pulled out the instant he found out there was a problem with Triacus, but he couldn't do that now. Not while his daughter and ex-wife were down on the planet's surface in the midst of an emergency.

 

Until they were sure of what they were dealing with, the best that his people could do was stabilize the survivors and transport them to the ship in the hope that whatever poison they'd ingested could be neutralized damn quick. Whatever it was, the different metabolisms were processing it differently, which would account for why some of the victims were already dead and others were simply at death's door, soon to follow. Starnes himself had passed away before Leonard had been able to do anything.

 

Of all the possible ways to die, Leonard couldn't quite believe this was a case of mass deliberate poisoning. It didn't seem real. There were examples of accidental toxic intake in recent history, but that was from crops gone bad or disasters. This was something else, and the only parallels that sprang to mind came from centuries-old stories of cults and delusional behaviour ending in suicide. As far as Leonard could tell, everyone over the age of eighteen had taken a serving of poisoned punch and taken it voluntarily.

 

"I've never seen anything like it," he heard Dube murmur more than once. The guard was in charge of documenting the scene for forensics, to help the Enterprise figure out just what had gone wrong. That was important, but Leonard couldn't stop wondering where the children – Joanna, oh god – might be and whether they were spared.

 

And then he'd found Jocelyn. They were getting along better nowadays, with something that could be called grudging friendship as they worked to raise a daughter together. They were different people now, and he'd noticed that since she'd started dating an archaeologist at one of the local universities. Roderick Franklin Dufresne. Leonard never had the chance to meet him in person, but from the two or three times that he'd answered when Leonard called, the man seemed decent enough. More importantly, he treated Joanna properly.

 

Now Jocelyn and her new husband sat together on a bench, slumped together with Dufresne's arms protectively around her as though he could protect her from what was occurring. Leonard realized his hands were shaking as he reached to verify what his tricorder was already telling him. They hadn't been dead long, and Leonard lay a hand on Jocelyn's shoulder. Already, it didn't feel like her.

 

"I'm sorry we didn't get here earlier," he murmured.

 

Every regret he'd felt, and every illogical hope he'd ever had buried deep in his heart was running through his mind. They'd moved on, both of them, but there was an irrational part of him that still wondered if he hadn't had Jim and if she hadn't met Dufresne if there might've been a way to patch things up between them. It still niggled him from time to time, and to have it completely nullified in front of him hurt more than he ever expected.

 

And how was he going to explain this to Joanna?

 

He went back to work then, forcing himself to focus until news of Joanna's whereabouts could be confirmed. None of the adults were awake now, but about ten more were stabilized and sent up to the ship. More medics had come down to help with the triage, and Leonard had to get a breath of air. He told them that he was stepping outside for a moment.

 

What was he going to do if Joanna was lying somewhere in this godforsaken place, dead from poisoning just like her mother? The thought choked him, and he felt himself stagger and then trip over a clump of grass. He sat down heavily and leaning against the wall, trying to breathe and focus on pulling himself back together even as the black thoughts clamoured for his attention.

 

His comm beeped, and with slow movements, he pulled it out. "McCoy here."

 

"She's okay." The most beautiful words in the world, and Leonard was suddenly scrambling to his feet, heart pounding and head dizzy with relief.

 

"Where are you?" he demanded, scanning the immediate area and seeing no one.

 

Jim's voice sounded amused, and possibly a little winded. "We're coming from seven o'clock as far as the mess hall is located. We've got twelve kids here, including Joanna."

 

"I'll be right there," Leonard promised, and although there were other things to talk about, like what they were doing with the dead bodies, and all the messy work but that wasn't the time for Leonard to worry about it. He had to see his little girl.

 

He saw Jim and Pavel first, both of them with smaller children in their arms. Weir, the security guard, followed with the rest. There was a redhead kid leading the way, and at Jim's side was Joanna.

 

He was there a heartbeat later, and pulling her into a tight embrace, kissing her head and murmuring his relief that she was alive and okay and how sorry he was that they weren't here earlier. He felt her arms around his waist, squeezing too, but that wasn't the embrace of a scared child. He remembered how she'd cling to his neck when she woke from nightmares as a small child, and how she didn't want to let go when he had to leave for Starfleet.

 

She didn't know there was a reason to be frightened, and it made his heart sink.

 

"Daddy, you're holding on too tightly," she whispered.

 

"Sorry, sweetpea," he murmured, and pulled back to study her for a moment. She looked all right, though she'd grown a good inch or three since the last time he'd seen her. She came up to mid-chest, and she had a new crop of freckles over her cheeks and arms from the sun. She looked perfectly fine, and it sent off warning signals in Leonard's mind.

 

"Where were you?" he asked. "Did someone tell you to stay away?"

 

"No," the redheaded kid said, and it was with a tone that Leonard had long come to associate with childish half-truths. "Are we done? We want to go play."

 

"You can play later, Tommy," Jim said. "Right now, you need to know that we're going to be beaming up shortly to a starship. We're taking you to a new places to stay. We're going to divide you up into groups. Four of you will come with me, another four wih Mr. Chekov here, and Joanna and three more will go with Dr. McCoy. I want you to collect your things, okay?"

 

"It's a game?" Tommy asked.

 

"It could be?" Pavel said, and even as he spoke, Leonard had a hard time imagining their still young lieutenant at this age and doing anything other than something scientific and brilliant. "The first team to collect all their belongings and meet here wins."

 

Leonard couldn't stop from rolling his eyes, despite everything, and met Jim's wary but amused gaze. "He has a little brother," Jim supplied.

 

"Ah," Leonard said, but anything else had to wait as he felt Joanna grasp one hand and other of the other children, a tiny boy who reminded him of a tiny Sulu, grasped the other hand eagerly.

 

"Go!" Tommy shouted.

 

And they were off. Despite himself and all the worry he felt, Leonard couldn't help the laugh as he was hauled away as fast as small legs could take him. For the moment, he wasn't going to let anything bother him, as long as he kept his baby girl in sight.

 

_*_

 

Hours later, there weren't anymore answers to the situation on Triacus. The surviving adults were still seriously ill, but weren't in danger of declining further. For the moment, they were unconscious in the medical bay while Bones' team worked on finding a cure. Providing nothing else went wrong, the final casualty list was fixed at fifty-eight dead, fifteen ill, and the anomalous twelve perfectly healthy children.

 

Most of the adults were going to be buried in place on Triacus, and Jim had assigned a crew to arrange for the interments. There were a few exceptions where the Enterprise would be carrying a few bodies in their own morgue for transportation to specific locations. Jocelyn Duchesne and her husband were two of them, and were among the bodies being autopsied to help figure out what had transpired.

 

"She would've approved," Bones said, wearily, after giving the order to his staff. "If it helps us bring a bit of closure by figuring out what happened, she'd want it."

 

He'd had his arm around Joanna at the time, and the fact that he wasn't hiding information from her said a lot. She was looking impatient, as the other children had already been transported aboard with Chekov as their erstwhile caregiver. None of the kids were reacting to the news of what had happened to the adults. No tears, nothing. Even those who had a parent who'd survived the ordeal seemed unaffected.

 

The wrongness was continuing to multiply.

 

Spock had beamed down earlier to begin transferring the computer records to the Enterprise in order to help figure out what had gone wrong with the expedition. After speaking with the burial detail, Jim went to visit him. They were in the building that housed Starnes' office and other administrative functions, and the walls were adorned with maps and printouts of the archaeological findings. A few children's drawings added a personal touch that nonetheless sent a shiver down Jim's spine.

 

"What have you found so far?" Jim asked him.

 

Spock's expression was perplexed. "This situation is not logical."

 

"What part of it?" Jim sat next to him after pulling up a chair. "The entire adult population takes part in a mass suicide, while their children are not only spared but don't seem to be reacting to the news. I know Joanna McCoy. The first time I met her, she was crying and had to had to be convinced to let go of her father when we were heading back to San Francisco. She's a sensitive kid, and now she's dry-eyed and detached."

 

"Could it not simply be an attempt at denial?" Spock asked. "Grief is a difficult experience, particularly for children. The Vulcan healers are currently attempting to aid those children traumatized when our homeworld was destroyed, where they believe that psychic shock has rendered them certain that their loved ones still live. It has caused the healers to reevaluate the status quo in regards to emotion."

 

"Disasters can do that," Jim murmured, "but this is different. I can't put my finger on it, but then again, I'm not a psychologist. I've asked Elizabeth Dehner to work with them in the length of time it takes to get them to their destination. She's not a child psychologist, but she's the best we've got right now."

 

"Perhaps it would have been useful for the members of the Starnes Expedition," Spock said, and reached out to bring an image onto the screen. It was easy to recognize to recognize Starnes on the screen, particularly when he wasn't disoriented and dishevelled. "I have gone through the entries made by Dr. Starnes from the last six months."

 

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Jim asked.

 

"The irrational behaviour is a recent development," Spock said. "There are corresponding entries from the medical unit that was assigned to the colony. The beginning of the behaviourial changes seem to relate to this entry. Computer, play back recording dated 2260.192."

 

"That's not quite a month ago," Jim murmured, but any reply would have to wait as the image of Starnes began to speak. The first of the log was inconsequential, listing supplies that they were ordering for the next delivery as well as the occurrences from the last day. It sounded normal and routine, and then he heard it.

 

"In regards to the excavation, today we made a new discovery. As we've already noted, this part of the ruins relate to what seems to have been a satellite community associated with the major city. What drew us here instead of the capital itself was the indication that there were signs of what could be a space-related industry in this sector. Behind one of the buildings, Alex Heney's team found the entrance to a cave that was blocked off from the outside. The initial scan suggests that there are objects inside, which we believe might be associated with what we've come to associate with the cult of Gorgon."

 

"Starnes mentioned a cave to me when I found him in the mess," Jim said.

 

Spock nodded. "This is not the first mention of the cave. Computer, advance to 197 and begin playback."

 

This time, Starnes was looking perplexed as he began his recording. "It's taken longer for the assessment of the cave to be completed than I anticipated at the beginning. There are very few people who seem to want to work inside of it. Half of my people refused stating they were feeling claustrophobic, and the other half could only stand it for a few hours at a time. In fact, the only people who seem to be able to stand it at all are the children, although I've warned Tommy and his friends to stay away after I found them playing inside. I doubt it'll stop them but I've also alerted the security teams to include the cave and the ruins in their patrols, just in case."

 

When the recording paused, Jim looked at Spock. "I can understand claustrophobia in a cave, but for everyone to have problems in it?"

 

"Curious," Spock said. "Perhaps there is a naturally occurring substance that affects human. Such a phenomenon has been recorded before."

 

"Possibly, but given what's going to happen later?" Jim found himself chewing at his thumb, and forced himself to stop. It was a nervous habit he thought he'd shed from his childhood, and it didn't make sense for it to appear now. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves. "What comes next?"

 

"Starnes' condition progressively deteriorates in the days to come," Spock reported. "His thoughts are incoherent, and his logs are little more than rambling."

 

The words made Jim frown, and he remembered the messages from Joanna that he'd listen to with Bones over the last two months. He remembered the last one, where she'd admitted that the younger kids weren't too bad, but that she was still enjoying the trip anyways and looked forward to seeing Bones soon. There'd never been a mention of her mother or stepfather, Jim recalled, and he was pretty sure he'd never caught of glimpse of either one during the recordings. "Is this behaviour noted in recordings made by the other team members?"

 

"I have located the private logs of Dr. Dufresne," Spock said. "He and his family arrived two months ago, as you know, and I desired to see if there was a similarity in his entries. Perhaps it might indicate an environmental factor unrelated to the cave."

 

"And what did you find?" Jim asked.

 

Spock called up a new log for the same date, and another man appeared on the screen. Jim vaguely recognized Rod Dufresne from a few pictures where he was posing with Jocelyn and Joanna, but here he was taking on the same wild appearance as Starnes.

 

"He was also involved in opening the cave," Spock supplied before the playback began.

 

"I read about the Gorgon before coming here," Dufresne said in an accent that Jim had come to associate with New Orleans. "Mostly mythical, but interesting even if the name itself is as good a guess as any. It's not really my speciality, but the cave is promising nonetheless. Not a lot of people like it, and it frankly bothers me too if I'm in there too long. Dr. Starnes let me know that Joanna and some of the other children were playing in it when we finished the excavation for the day. Jocelyn's not impressed and has read the riot act, but what I want to know is how she could be in there so long."

 

"That's the second time they've mentioned the name Gorgon," Jim said, knowing he was frowning. "Any idea what they're talking about?"

 

"I am unfamiliar with the word in this context," Spock said. "In Earth mythology, the Gorgon were three sisters noted for possessing snakes in place of hair, and a gaze capable of transforming humans into stone. I doubt an association on this level, but unfortunately this must wait until I return to the Enterprise."

 

"Why's that?" Jim asked.

 

"Because the file relating to the entry has been deleted from the mainframe," Spock said flatly. "I am running a diagnostic program in order to see if anything may be retrieved, and perhaps to gain insight into who is responsible for this action."

 

Jim sat there, processing what little information he had about the situation. "I think I want to see this cave. Everything's pointing toward it, and I need to know what's going on. Do you know where it's located?"

 

"I do," Spock said. "I admit to some curiosity of my own."

 

They passed by the burial, and Jim was touched to see that his people were taking the time to make markers. The identification of the bodies was relatively straightforward, and there was a small thicket of headstones made out of local materials. Jim nodded at them to continue their somber duty, and before long, they were in the ruins.

 

"Fascinating," was the only thing Spock had to say at the moment.

 

To Jim's inexperienced eye, the cave didn't seem particularly noteworthy, just a hole in the ground. He'd seen sinkholes before in Iowa, and he wondered if that's what they were dealing with. He voiced the idea to Spock, who simply took the idea into consideration as they made their way into the narrow opening.

 

He'd only taken a few steps inside when he began to see features that were artificial in nature. Steps were hewn out of the stone, and there were actual handholds that would allow unsteady hands to make their way down. The work was far from smooth, with the odd stalagmite and centuries' accumulation of buildup littering the cave's floor.

 

"What do you think?" Jim asked, noticing from the corner of his eye that Spock had started scanning. For himself, the cave didn't seem too foreboding, but he was getting a weird feeling that didn't have a reasonable explanation. It was almost like he was spooking himself from the set-up of knowing about the cave.

 

"There are traces of sentient activity in this area," Spock said slowly, indicating the same details Jim had noticed moments before, "but it has been some time since it was last open to the air. I would estimate several thousand years."

 

Jim turned on a flashlight to get a bit look at the area, and saw some writing on the wall. At least he assumed it was writing, and pointed to it. "That's got to be the inscription that told them about the Gorgons."

 

"There are indeed no known cognates in our computers," Spock said. "Fascinating."

 

Not quite the word, and Jim felt like someone was walking over his grave. He shuddered, and found himself rubbing anxiously at the goosebumps under his sleeves. "Well, I have to say this. I really don't like it in here."

 

Spock turned a sharp gaze toward him. "What are you feeling?"

 

"Like someone's watching us," Jim said.

 

"I can assure you that we are alone in here," Spock told him.

 

"That isn't helping. If anything, this is getting worse." Jim clenched his fists and tried to breathe deeply. "You really aren't feeling this?"

 

"I am not," Spock said, giving a faint frown.

 

"It's like something has found my flight or fight instinct and is pressing heavily on the former one," Jim said, and he could feel himself sweating as he backed slowly away. "If it's all right with you, I think I'm going to walk very manfully to the exit before I piss myself."

 

The look Spock gave him was almost enough to cut off the edge of his fear, but Jim couldn't allow himself the opportunity to enjoy it. He was nearly jogging toward the outside and the sunshine, and as soon as he burst into the humid air, he felt the anxiety melting away like ice in the sun.

 

Spock emerged a second later, barely squinting in the light. "Are you well now, Jim?"

 

"Better, yeah," Jim said, closing his eyes and feeling his body relaxing. "So, the cave."

 

"There does seem to be something present," Spock agreed.

 

"And you weren't affected by it," Jim said. "There were only humans involved in the Starnes expedition, am I right?"

 

"That is correct," Spock said. "However, from the logs some exhibited greater sensitivity to the phenomenon than others."

 

"I want to know what it is," Jim ordered. "Take whoever else you need to figure this out. I'd suggest having K'th'ilon and Tryiln, they both have skill sets that would be useful. It's possible that whatever caused the expedition members to kill themselves is only affecting humans."

 

"It would be a valid hypothesis based on our current data," Spock said.

 

"And what if it's not a phenomenon?" Jim asked.

 

"If it is not a natural causation?" Spock frowned. "I do not believe that likely, Jim."

 

"Unlikely, not impossible," Jim pressed. "What if there's something in there that didn't want Starnes and his people here? What if it drove them to suicide? I mean, there's also the issue that not everyone would be working in the cave."

 

"That is a good point." Spock frowned. "Perhaps it is possible to cross-reference and discover if there were any artifacts associated with the cave in the processing laboratories."

 

"And then see if there's anything carrying the same energy signature?" Jim nodded. "That's a good plan, but I don't want you working here alone. You are half-human, after all."

 

Spock's shoulders stiffened. "As Dr. McCoy is fond of reminding me."

 

_*_

 

This was wrong on so many levels.

 

Although he was supposed to be on duty, Leonard was well aware that his entire staff knew what had happened on the planet's surface. News travelled fast, especially among a small team like medical, and the slowly-filling morgue was another clue if someone wanted to bother checking names and dates.

 

The children's belongings were piled to the side of the medical bay where no one would trip over them, and each one was perched on a biobed. They were fidgeting and staring at the room around them, while the younger ones were being entertained by Pavel Chekov. Apparently the bridge didn't need him, which suited Leonard just fine because he had his hands full dealing with his own flesh and blood.

 

"Another scan?" Joanna huffed, and the expression she gave him was one he recognized from the mirror. "We've been in here forever, Daddy."

 

Her words were echoed by a chorus of younger voices, like a flock of vocal birds complaining of foreverness, and Leonard found himself grinding his teeth together in an attempt to keep his voice level. "Just one more, sweetpea. I need to make sure you and the other children aren't carrying anything."

 

"Like germs?" called out a small boy who appeared to have recently learned the concept. "We wash our hands. With soap."

 

"That's good," Leonard said, and then looked at his scanner when the results were processed. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or disappointed with the results, because although the readings suggested the twelve of them of were perfectly unaffected by whatever had affected their parents, Leonard couldn't help wondering if it wasn't too perfect.

 

And while he couldn't keep the entire dozen for more tests, he could always keep his own kid there for company. He wasn't sure why Joanna would have the same results as the others, who were primarily born and raised in space as far as he could tell from the medical records, but then again, he wondered if this was that much of a discrepancy to begin with.

 

"Well," he finally said, "you're all looking as healthy as an elephant."

 

"I'd rather be like a dinosaur," somebody said, he couldn't quite figure out whom.

 

"We're dinosaurs in the Jurassic!" a second voice called out, and then there were small bodies hoping off biobeds to begin roaming as if they were pterodactyls or Tyrannosaurus Rex -- the latter judging by the ridiculous arm movements.

 

Someone else picked up the prehistoric narrative, and Joanna was in the process of jumping down to join in the game -- no idea what that was, but maybe it was Leonard's old favourite with the club at the end of its tail -- when he had to put his foot down.

 

"I need you all to turn back into humans again," Leonard said, his accent thickening despite himself. A few children froze for the moment, but the real leader of the gang, Tommy, was looking at him with a peculiar jut to his jaw. Someone wasn't happy. "Now, as far as I can tell, you are all really healthy, but it's been a hard few days. Most of you haven't had the chance to process what's happened." A bunch of blank looks that were clearly veering toward boredom. "A friend of mine, Elizabeth, will be coming to talk to all of you at some point, and she'd like to talk to you about what happened."

 

"Blah blah blah," Tommy said to them, hands on hips in a pose Leonard was sure was copied from an an adult in his life. "We don't need to talk to adults."

 

"You don't need to," Leonard agreed, "but I think it would be a good thing to at least talk with her for a little bit."

 

He turned his back to reach for the padd that had a list of all the children, so he could proceed with contacting next of kins after he got Joanna settled. There was movement from the corner of his eye, like Tommy was gesturing somehow with his hands, but that was exactly when he saw the list of casualties. Jocelyn's name stood out at the top, and Leonard felt himself pausing, lingering, and it wasn't until someone touched his arm that he realized that Christine was facing him with a worried look.

 

"What?" he asked, and then noticed that most of the kids were gone. Joanna stood by with look that was both familiar and completely foreign. He looked around again, and frowned at Christine. "Where'd they go?"

 

Her expression said more than her words. "I sent Pavel off to the guest quarters to get them settled. I think there were promises of ice cream afterwards. I kept Joanna back so you could take her to your rooms."

 

"Oh." How long had he just been standing there? He mumbled a thanks to her, and then ushered Joanna out. The halls were empty as they walked, and his hand felt heavy on her shoulder as he guided her toward the turbolift. He also caught a glimpse of her face, and it squeezed his heart. She looked disinterested in what was around her, and she was getting impatient with him.

 

He knew he should've been more worried about that, but it was hard with the numbness growing in the core of his being.

 

"What do you think?" he asked when they were inside. All the touches he'd made seemed irrelevant now, and rather stupid. He tried to smile, but it felt strange on his face.

 

"It's kind of small," she said, looking around, and that wasn't helping one bit.

 

"Well, it's not like the house in Georgia," he admitted, "but it's enough."

 

She shrugged and set her bag down on the sofa. "I liked Triacus better. I had my own room."

 

"I know," he said, and that was the best he could muster at the moment. He tried to push it aside and focused instead on dealing with his daughter. "Look, Joanna, we're going to need to talk about... things."

 

"Do we have to do it now?" she asked.

 

"Well, no," he began, "but I need to let you know that there's going to be some questions asked of you later. They're going to want to know what you noticed happening to the adults." To Jocelyn, he thought with a stab of despair. "We need to understand what happened."

 

"But that's boring," Joanna protested. "I just want to go play again. It was fun down on Triacus, Daddy. I don't want the fun to stop."

 

He didn't know what to say about that, but the medical part of his brain noticed that she wasn't the self-possessed pre-teen he talked with over the comlines. She was acting like the younger child she'd been when he'd visit during the odd break when he was at the Academy. The regression made sense, but all the same it squeezed the despair a little further in his heart at what losing her mother would mean to her.

 

"Well, the fun might be able to go on a bit longer," he hedged.

 

Joanna bounced on her heels, favouring him with a big smile. "Can I go see the other kids now?"

 

"Uh, sure," he found himself stammering, and Joanna flittered over to him, pressing a hug around his chest before running off.

 

It was only later that he realized that she couldn't possibly know where she was going.

 

**

 

It felt odd leaving her father be, but she knew the look on his face. He was sad, and she didn't like knowing that he was that way again -- like years ago, before he left after the divorce -- because if he could only understand that everything was okay, he wouldn't be sad.

 

The problem was that he was an adult, and the adults never understood.

 

She skipped her way down to the mess hall, knowing that the other children would be there. It was true most of them were younger than her, but she liked having other children to play with. And this was something special for them.

 

The angel told them so.

 

She remembered her dad mentioning Pavel Chekov a few times, and that he was a genius. He wasn't that much older than her, she knew, even though he was already a lieutenant in Starfleet. He was also kind of cute, she thought, with his curly hair and bright blue eyes; a little like Jim.

 

"Jojo!" Emily cheered at her arrival. The rest of the kids echoed her, and Joanna felt herself flushing at the welcome.

 

"Did you come here by yourself?" Pavel asked, puzzled and clearly expecting her dad.

 

"I knew the way," she said, which was a half-truth but the angel said it was okay to tell lies if it would help. "Besides, my daddy's an important man on the ship. I don't need him showing me around all the time."

 

Pavel looked ready to ask more questions, but behind him, Tommy shook his fist. It was the game the angel taught them, to make the adults think a different way when it was going to ruin their plan. They had already played a round on her dad, but this was something a little more intense. Joanna saw Pavel blink, and then he simply smiled. "Yes, your father is very important."

 

A few of the little ones giggled at his accent, but Joanna didn't mind it at all.

 

He brought them to machines that turned out to be food dispensers. Joanna knew a bit about them, and had seen the ones used at the Academy when she'd visited her dad. These looked more sophisticated, though, and she stayed at the rear of the group, letting the younger kids have first selection in what they wanted to eat. There was a cheer before shouts of ice cream and chocolate cake carried in the air, but Pavel held up a hand.

 

"Nyet, nyet," he chided, smiling. "One at a time. We don't want to break the machines, do we?"

 

Plate after plate of sweets materialized in the dispenser, and Joanna soon realized it was her turn. She paused, looking at the desserts the other kids were scarfing back, and she felt shy as she looked at Pavel.

 

"I don't know," she said, a bit hesitantly.

 

"I know what your father orders," he offered. "Not always, but when he does, it's... what is it called? Peach cobbler, does that sound right?"

 

Her breath caught in her throat. She and her mama had made cobbler the night before leaving Georgia. There weren't a lot of peaches where they were going Mama had said, so better eat a lot tonight to sate herself for the entire summer. Joanna hesitated, determined to push the memory away, and then shook her head.

 

"I wouldn't mind the chocolate cake," she decided.

 

When they sat down, she could tell that Tommy was trying to find a moment for the twelve of them to be alone again. It was easier on the planet, where they could all duck away and gather in the cave, or somewhere else convenient. On the ship, though, it was probably going to prove to be a challenge. She wondered if they could hide in her dad's rooms while he was busy doctoring.

 

Too bad Pavel was too old, she thought, as he sat across from her with his own plate of something sweet. He could've been a good addition to their group, but he was, what, nineteen? That was really old, especially when Joanna knew she was the oldest kid after Tommy. She didn't mind the role, but sometimes she wondered if Tommy had problems with her being there. At least the angel said that he accepted her.

 

"Would you like to try some?" Pavel asked her a moment later, drawing her back to the moment. He gestured to his plate as he spoke.

 

"Is that pie?" she asked.

 

"Da," he said. "It was invented in Russia, where I am from."

 

She eyed him for a long moment. Daddy said that Pavel was a whizkid, but that piece of information didn't sound right. "I don't think that's true."

 

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted as a woman in a blue tunic like her dad's appeared by their tables. She was tall and blonde, and Joanna wondered if this was Elizabeth.

 

"Lieutenant Chekov," she said. "Dessert at this time of day?"

 

Pavel looked a little sheepish. "A special occasion, I think."

 

"That's true. Perhaps I'll join you," the woman said. She smiled at the kids then. "I'm Elizabeth Dehner, but you can call me Liz. I think I'll get myself a small bowl of ice cream. I'll be right back."

 

Tommy turned in his chair to watch her go, and that made it clear to everyone that this woman wasn't meant to be trusted. Joanna would've been more inclined to give her a chance, especially since she worked with her dad, but this wasn't the time to oppose him.

 

Whatever she brought back was a small and yellowish-looking scoop of something. Joanna could tell that the other kids thought it was gross, but it didn't seem too bad to her. The woman took a delicate bite, smiling at the flavour, before looking around her at the twelve pair of eyes staring at her.

 

"What kinds of desserts did they have on Triacus?" Liz asked.

 

That wasn't what Joanna was expecting to hear, but she kept quiet as Danny gave her the details on the limited variety of sweets that they would get. It wasn't a lot, which was something Joanna already knew pretty well, but Liz simply sat there listening with the occasional nod to show she was following.

 

"That's because Triacus was stupid," Billy declared, and a few of the kids added their opinion.

 

Liz waited for a lull before trying her next question. "Are you happy to be away from there?"

 

"Yes!" Tommy declared.

 

"Even though you're alone?" she pressed, glancing around at them.

 

"We're not alone," Tommy shot back. "We have each other, and that's the way it's got to stay."

 

This time, the chorus of agreement was louder, with the little ones getting particularly upset, and from the look on Liz's face, she was trying to find a way to voice something that wasn't going to be good news. Joanna knew the expression from whenever her parents were trying to be gentle and firm about unpleasant things, like the divorce and that her dad was leaving Georgia. That said, she didn't know if she wanted to be with the other kids forever, but it was something that sounded good in the meantime.

 

If they stayed together, the angel promised that anything was possible.

 

"I don't know if that's feasible right now," Liz said gently. "All of you have family elsewhere who'll be wanting to see you again. Grandparents, aunts and uncles." She glanced at Joanna. "Fathers and mothers who weren't on Triacus. They have the right to take care of you."

 

"We're not babies," Tommy said, and he'd forgotten the rest of his cake as he stared at Liz. "We can take care of ourselves and each other."

 

"I'm sure you can," Liz said, "but right now, this might not be a good idea. It's normal for children who've gone through similar experiences to you to hide their feelings, but those emotions will want to come out eventually."

 

"They were dumb," Emily protested. "Why else would they've been on that planet?"

 

Tommy ignored her, and from the set of his mouth, Joanna suddenly knew he was playing the game without them; she would see the sharp motion of his arm. A quick shake of his fist, and Liz suddenly blinked, confused.

 

"Perhaps you're right. Staying together is exactly what you need," she said, slowly, as though she was trying out the words for the very first time. "Whoever would suggest otherwise doesn't know better."

 

That was one small victory for the better, but Joanna hated the smile that Tommy sent her way.

 

*

 

Satisfied that the investigation was continuing well on the surface of Triacus, Jim beamed aboard to see how the children were settling in. He headed straight to the medical bay, but before he could track Bones down, Christine Chapel pulled himself aside for a moment.

 

"The children are off with Lt. Chekov," she reported, "and Dr. Dehner's gone to speak with them."

 

The news that the children weren't in the immediate vicinity relaxed Jim's nerves, and he gave a short nod. "Thank you, Nurse. Is Dr. McCoy in his office?"

 

"No, he left to go with --" She stopped, looking over his shoulder as the door to Sickbay opened. She pressed her lips together tightly. "Dr. McCoy, I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

 

"I work here, damn it," Bones muttered, walking past them, "contrary to what the lot of you like to think. Come on, Jim, I need a drink."

 

Jim raised his eyebrows, and caught the significant look Christine sent his way. He couldn't miss the darkened circles under Bones' eyes, and he fell into step behind him. It wasn't until the door closed shut behind them that Jim felt like he could voice something.

 

"You doing okay?" he asked, and regretted the words immediately.

 

Despite his prior outburst, Bones sighed heavily as he pulled his bourbon from the stash in his bottom drawer. "If anyone is okay right now, I'm gonna call them a liar. It's hard enough to see good people suddenly dead, inexplicably dead, but then for a group of children to just prance around like there isn't a problem in the world?"

 

"But the point is, they *are* all right," Jim said, carefully.

 

"Are they?" Bones asked, and poured them both a drink. He downed his before handing the second glass to Jim. "Yeah, I know we're both on duty, but my nerves are shot. It's one thing to know that there's a group of kids like that, but to have Joanna be one of them? To have my ex-wife in the morgue ready to go home?"

 

Jim accepted the drink, but left it untouched. "There's a lot of things we're going to have to discuss."

 

"You don't think I know that?" Bones looked bleak, as though he was staring past Jim and into his darkest thoughts. "We're only two years into the mission, Jim. I can't have a child here, and what kind of place is this to raise her, anyway?"

 

Those were all thoughts Jim wasn't ready to entertain, either, and he set own the shot glass, spilling bourbon over his fingers. He pulled Bones into a hug, just holding him and feeling the tension thrumming through his shoulders and back. For a moment, Jim worried that he'd shatter from the vibrations, and willed him to stay contained within the shelter of his arms.

 

"We'll talk," Jim murmured. "Afterwards, we'll figure out something that'll work that's best for her." Even if it means losing you, Jim thought, and tried to ignore the twist of his own heart.

 

"Yeah," Bones sighed, and he finally relaxed by tiny increments as Jim ran fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "As much as I appreciate this, and trust me, I'd rather stay like this for the next day or two, we have a mystery to solve."

 

"Right." Jim slowly disengaged, and stepped back. "If you feel this is too much, let me know and I'll have M'Benga step in for you."

 

"Am I compromised?" Bones said, interpreting the meaning. He gave Jim a crooked smile. "That's not the question. Can I function? Sure. Anyway, as much as I appreciate the one-on-one time, I'm sure you came in looking for more than just that."

 

"As the captain, sure," Jim said. He watched as Bones picked up the second shot glass, downing the bourbon before fetching a padd. "What's that?"

 

"The results on the toxicity tests," Bones replied. "Cyalodin, in a massive dose. They mixed it in with the beverage, and fed it to every adult member of the expedition. As far as we can tell, at least from the corpses we're bringing back, nothing was forced. Everyone did it willingly."

 

"Cyalodin?" Jim had to pause as he tried to recall what he'd read about the substance. "It's part of the standard colony kit, as a pesticide. There's been debate on whether or not we should even be issuing that to them in the first place."

 

"If used the way it's intended, it's harmless," Bones said. "As an ingredient in a bowl of punch?"

 

"Not so good," Jim finished. "Spock and I have a bit more insight into what might've happened. At least, what might've driven them into taking their own lives."

 

"Yeah, like what?" Bones poured himself another shot, but sipped it as he listened to Jim recount the details of the cave and how he'd felt inside it. He frowned, contemplating something. "So you had to be inside it, physically, in order to be affected by whatever this was?"

 

"Right, but that doesn't make sense," Jim agreed. "That might account for a couple of suicides, but not the whole adult population. Spock's trying to cross-reference with the excavation records to find out where the artifacts from the caves went, and to see if it shares the odd energy signatures his tricorder picked up."

 

Bones mulled that over. "And why would it just be the adults? There are some obvious physiological differences between adults and children, and that might account for the kids not being affected." *Thankfully*, was the unspoken thought between them. "How's that working out for Spock, anyway?"

 

"Hard to say right now," Jim said. "There's a few holes in the computer records, like someone was editing it to remove a few important clues."

 

"Like what?" Bones asked, perplexed.

 

"Well, we noticed it when we were looking up information about the Gorgons," Jim said. "Whatever they're managed to learn about the people who built this city is gone. Spock's trying to recover it in case it comes in handy."

 

Bones frowns. "We're Starfleet officers, damn it, not Sherlock Holmes. Who the hell would delete all that information?"

 

"I'll tell you when we figure it out," Jim said. "Hopefully, it's not too elementary."

 

There was just enough time for Bones to groan and roll his eyes, but any further commentary was interrupted by the comline. He leaned over to slap the toggle. "McCoy here."

 

"This is Dehner," came the reply. "Are you in your office? I have my initial assessment ready for you about the children."

 

"Already? I certainly am, and so's the captain," Bones replied. "Come right on in."

 

"I'll be there within a few minutes," she said. "Dehner out."

 

Jim went to take the office chair while Bones put the bourbon away. "Isn't Dehner's speciality studying the stress reactions of starship crews in space?"

 

"Yes," Bones said, "but she's the best we have. I'm too rusty and involved to do much good, and the rest of my staff are just surgeons. And if you think about it, this isn't that far from her expertise. Besides, she's also in charge of contacting the kids' families to find them new homes. She's a professional and good at her job."

 

Of that, Jim had no doubts. Bones wasn't one to have staff who weren't efficient in their jobs, but as soon as Dehner arrived and took a seat in the extra office chair, Jim found himself wondering about the psychiatrist. She seemed too... relaxed.

 

"They're adjusting remarkably well to their new surroundings," she began. "Admittedly we're dealing with a range of maturity from the youngest who appears to be six, and the oldest --"

 

"Yes, we know Joanna's eleven," Jim interrupted, "but aren't they a little *too* well adjusted all things considered? Their parents are dead, and now they're leaving behind their homes to begin new lives. Some of them for the second time, if not more. That should be traumatic, all things considered."

 

"They're positive and ready for their next challenge," she said.

 

"Is that your professional assessment?" Jim said, "because even I can tell that's not normal."

 

"What's normal for one child might be very different for another," she said. "What I did observe is that Joanna is very much on the periphery of the group, in regards to her status. I noticed she said very little during our interaction."

 

"She's the new kid," Jim said. "That makes sense."

 

"And what doesn't is that she's hardly batted an eye at the news that her mother is dead," Bones snapped. "How is that going to help anything?"

 

Dehner held up a calm hand. "I fully intend to work with them as long as they're on the ship. I'm looking into contacting relatives, as you know, so we can have someplace to send them. In the meantime, I want to meet with them individually or in small groups to help assess them further. Perhaps when they're not all together they'll be able to express a little more emotion."

 

"You think that Tommy's not letting them mourn?" Jim asked, feeling his eyebrows going up.

 

"No, but he is exerting an influence on them," she said. "I understand his father was the leader of the archaeological expedition, and that would lend him status in the eyes of the others. Underneath that, however, is a boy who thinks that as long as he's in control of the situation, he won't have to face up to the reality that his parents have died."

 

Bones scowled, leaning back in his chair. "Anything else that might be useful, Doctor?"

 

"I'll keep you apprised," she promised. "I also wouldn't worry, Leonard. Joanna's a bright girl. She'll find a way to process this on her own. You'll know when she's ready."

 

But in seeing the shadows under Bones' eyes, Jim wondered if Bones would last until then.

 

*

 

The first time they'd taken Joanna to see the angel, she didn't know what to expect.

 

She was still shy around the new kids, but it was flattering to be wanted by a new group of friends. She was also relieved she wouldn't be spending the entire trip on her own, when she wasn't with Rod or her mom. If it meant she had to play a game of angel with the kids, she'd make that sacrifice.

 

"What do you mean by an angel?" she'd asked as they made their way into the ruins.

 

"I can't tell you yet," Tommy said.

 

"But it can't be a real angel," Joanna protested, even as Emily tugged her forward with a tight grip on her hand. "They don't really exist." But then again, she wasn't entirely sure. People used to swear there weren't aliens, and now there were Vulcans, Andorians, and lots of other people out there in space.

 

"It's real," Emily promised.

 

They were in the ruins, and Joanna wasn't sure about that, either. Rod had said she shouldn't venture into them without an adult, but the kids acted like this was familiar ground to them. It probably was, and that made her less leery about going in. But instead of a building, this was a cave, and Joanna at first wasn't too impressed with it. It was dark, uncomfortable, and she found she didn't want too look too closely at what lay beneath the dirt.

 

"We start by saying a rhyme," Tommy told her, and reached for Joanna's other hand. His grip was sweaty and uncomfortable, and he wasn't going to let go. The whole group, all twelve of them, assembled in a circle. "We'll teach it to you."

 

"It's easy," another kid chimed in. "The angel taught it to us."

 

_Hail, hail, fire and snow,_

_Call the angel, we will go._

_Far away, far to see,_

_Friendly Angel, come to me._

 

Joanna found herself mouthing the words the second time, but by the third, she could recite it. They chanted a fourth time, and she couldn't help feeling silly. It was just them in the cave, and nothing was happening. Joanna glanced away, and when she looked back, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

 

A man had joined them, but she hadn't heard his approach. She quickly realized he didn't look like a member of the expedition, and maybe more worrisome, he also wasn't quite solid. He looked to be made of wavering energy, that shifted his image slightly, but once she was over her initial shock, she realized she wasn't scared by the sight.

 

The little kids had giggled at her reaction, but the angel's gaze came to rest on her. The look was disconcerting, like he could see directly through to her soul, and he wasn't going to push away. Besides, if the other kids trust him, he couldn't be that bad?

 

"Who is this?" the angel asked, but his eyes hadn't left her face.

 

"This is Joanna," Tommy said by way of introduction. "She's come to stay with us for a while."

 

"Excellent," the angel said, nodding as if agreeing with something private. "Another soldier for the army. Well done, you have done very well."

 

But she wasn't a soldier. Joanna looked at the other kids, feeling confused. "I'm a kid, not a soldier," she said, echoing her father's favourite phrase of how he was a doctor and nothing else. "Neither of you. What would an angel need soldiers for, anyway?"

 

"Because," Emily said, and it was clear she was repeating what she'd been told, "there are dangers out there."

 

"Like what?" Joanna asked.

 

"Angels know more than people do," Tommy said, intercepting the conversation. He put his hands on his hips. "Don't you know anything, Joanna? Angels watch out and let us know when something bad is going to happen. That's what they do. Our angel tells us what's going on, and something big is happening."

 

"But couldn't he just stop it himself?" Joanna wondered, uncertainly, but there was a bit of reasoning in what they were saying. It reminded her of the few times she'd gone to church, and some of the beliefs that were tossed out from time to time. "Why would he need us?"

 

"Because he's stronger with us," Billy said.

 

That made no sense. There was something Joanna just wasn't understanding about the situation, and she remembered her mom sitting her down often enough with the cautionary words that if something was wrong, that Joanna was meant to tell her as soon as she knew. Tell her or Rod, tell Daddy, or another responsible adult who could help her out. That's what made sense, and she verbalized her concern in an uncertain voice. "Why us?

 

"Parents are the problem," Tommy replied, and as he spoke, Joanna couldn't help noticing how the angel looked pleased with what the kids were saying. He reminded her of a teacher, proud of students repeated what they'd learned, and those weren't bad people. "I tried explaining this to my dad, but he thought we were just playing a game. None of them understand, and this isn't a game. This is real. Your mom and dad aren't going to understanding this either."

 

"That's not my dad," she said reflexively, because as much as she liked Rod, he was never going to replace her daddy. "My real dad's coming to pick me up in two months when my visit's over. He works on a starship, and I get to stay with him until I go home to Earth."

 

She felt odd pointing that out, and strangely defensive. At home, she didn't want to point out differences between her and the other kids, but it was a little strange to do it here. Maybe it was because they had such dissimilar backgrounds, and they were so much younger than she was. And yet, she still didn't want to be alone. A part of her was beginning to regret saying yes to her stepdad's offer to join them on his expedition; she couldn't stayed home in Georgia with her grandmother, and with her own friends.

 

"Your coming here is very special indeed, Joanna," the angel said, and his voice seemed to ease the doubts she felt. The tone was soothing, and she began to wonder why she was confused in the first place. "You are the answers to our prayers."

 

"I am?" she asked, and that made her chest feel warm.

 

"In time, we will be ready to move on," the angel told her. "We must grow strong, and your presence will help. When the time comes, we will want to find new friends on other planets. This ship will be our vessel, and in time we will have the numbers needed to ensure that the enemy never again finds us."

 

Despite everything she'd learned about the enemy in the upcoming weeks, she never did find out exactly who the enemy was supposed to be. One day it was obvious the adults were compromised, and that was it so important to succeed in their mission. Joanna had hoped something would change, and more than once tried to draw her mom's attention to the incoming dangers. Nothing worked, and more than once she remembered finding one of the kids on the doorstep, as if to chide her for trying.

 

Instead, Joanna watched as her mom drew in on herself, and Rod became unsettled when he wasn't in the archaeology labs. They couldn't save themselves, and they couldn't be saved.

 

Now here she was here on the Enterprise, and she just didn't know how she felt.

 

The kids had gathered, and now they were sitting on the floor of her dad's living quarters. The little ones were napping, and Joanna and the others were facing Tommy. The lights were dimmed, and the door locked; her dad could get in, of course, but she knew he wasn't going to show up for a while. Tommy had made sure of it, and she had helped.

 

And somewhere around the ship, Pavel was wandering around and thinking he still had his little charges. That made Joanna feel bad, but she couldn't allow herself to dwell on him. She focused instead on trying to clear her mind, keeping her legs crossed, and forced herself to also ignore the picture of her and her dad that was hanging on the wall.

 

"Don't we need everyone awake?" Danny whispered, his eyes shadowed.

 

"Nah," Tommy said. "Let them sleep. They'll be better later on if they've had a nap, but it's okay because they napped because they wanted to. Not because anyone made them."

 

There was a murmur of agreement, and then they were holding hands. Joanna took a deep breath, and then the chant began. She tried to concentrate on the words, like the other kids seemed to be doing when she peeked out from between semi-closed eyes. She had to admit she was worried. Would the angel come to them all the way from down there on Triacus? She began to doubt, especially as the chant started its third round, which was longer than normal. Taking a deep breath, Joanna squeezed her eyes shut and willed everything she could muster into calling the angel to them.

 

Why she doubted, she wasn't sure. Before they began a fourth repetition, she opened her eyes to see the angel materializing across the room. It was a little bit like a transporter working, except the angel was never completely a solid form. He also took a few extra moments to manifest, but his smile was visible from the very start.

 

From the look on the other kids' faces, they were feeling the same warmth and pride in their chest as Joanna used to feel, and she wished she felt it now. In a secret part of her heart, she hoped that whatever the angel had come to tell them, her dad, Jim and Pavel wouldn't be labelled as enemies.

 

The angel looked them over, his smile softening before he started speaking. "You have done very well, my friends. You have done what must be done, and now you have come aboard the Enterprise as we planned."

 

"What do we do now?" Tommy asked.

 

"Captain Kirk will undoubtedly choose a nearby station as the next destination, but we will not want to go there. We wish to go to Marcos Twelve. Nearly a million new friends will join us as our allies when we arrive, and the rest will be our enemies." The angel seemed to look at each of them in the eyes, searching their soul and finding them worthy. "Together with our other friends who will join us, we will defeat our enemies as we defeated them on Triacus. A million friends will make us invincible, but before we can achieve that, we must control the ship and the crew. You already know what to do."

 

He gave them the usual blessing, and disappeared from view as the circle broke. A shiver went up Joanna's spine as she considered what they were meant to do now.

 

"We can play later," Tommy said. "Wake up the kids. We need to get started."

 

*

 

Jim remembered the first time he'd been introduced to Joanna McCoy. She'd been barely seven, and she gave Jim a long, assessing look that was more than a little reminiscent of her father, but like Bones, she'd taken a liking to him to from that visit. They'd always had a kind of understanding based on their mutual attachment to Bones, although Jim was quick to make it clear that her relationship to Bones was infinitely more important than his.

 

That had won him bonus points, he'd like to think.

 

The problem was, the more he saw this Joanna, he wasn't sure what he was dealing with anymore. Gone was the confidence, though he supposed that he could understanding that the upending of her normal life with the suicides could be accountable to that, but the worst part was that he thought he was pretty sure that she wasn't meeting his gaze. Her hazel eyes would look up and fix somewhere around his mouth, before darting away to stare at her hands or some feature in the room.

 

"We were playing," she said, a bit accusatory. "Why'd you make me stop?"

 

"We haven't had the chance to talk since you got here," Jim told her, in a gentle voice. "I'm worried about you, kiddo. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

 

"I'm fine," she said, and this time her smile was reminiscent of the kid he knew. He just wished he could believe he was hearing the truth in those two simple words.

 

“Then can I ask you a few questions?” He waited for a response, pretended that he did, and pressed on. “I need to know a little more about what happened down there, Joanna. You’re a big girl now, and you can observe things that the other kids wouldn’t. That’s what I need from you right now. Can you help me?”

 

It was a gamble whether she’d be convinced by his words, but he was hoping she’d comply nevertheless. She had the same eye for observation as Bones, and Jocelyn hadn’t been slack in that department herself. When he'd learned about that, Jim would look for puzzles for Joanna to solve and send those along as presents.

 

“Maybe,” she finally hedged.

 

“Good.” Jim watched her for a moment, and began asking questions. “What was it like to find yourself on Triacus? I know it isn’t the best example of a fun colony for an eleven year old, but seems like it had its charms, right?”

 

“Sure,” she said. “Rod would tell me everything he could find about the ruins. He thought I’d be a good archaeologist, you know.”

 

“And it must’ve been hard with not a lot of kids your age,” Jim added.

 

“I helped out at first,” she said, “with Rod and the other adults, but I was getting underfoot. A lot, apparently. The kids didn’t want to hang out with me all that much at first, since I was new and not staying long, but now they like me and they’re my friends. We play games together.”

 

“So you’ve all said,” Jim murmured. He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him as he considered how to word his next questions if he wanted to avoid being shut-down by whatever was binding her to the other kids. “It must have been scary, though, when the adults started to go a little crazy.”

 

She waved it off. “Adults are always doing weird things.”

 

“Maybe,” he said, but that did sound like an excuse. “It must’ve been frightening, though. I mean, I know you and your mom are pretty close. To see her acting anxious and frightened, well, that would’ve been enough to make me off-centred if I’d been in your shoes.”

 

There was a pause, and Joanna was biting her lower lip. The moment passed, however, as she squared her shoulders. “Jim, where are the other kids going to go?”

 

“Most of them are going to go to their extended families,” Jim told her, wondering at the change of topic. “They’ll have aunts and uncles, or grandparents to take care of them.” Deep inside, with an anxious twist, he wondered what option Bones was going to arrange; his mother was still alive and fairly energetic for a woman in her mid-sixties, and there was the semi-estranged sister living somewhere off planet with a husband. “By the time we get to Starbase 18, we’ll drop them off into Starfleet custody and then they’ll see them to their new homes.”

 

“I think the Enterprise should bring them to Marcos XII,” she said.

 

Jim couldn’t help raising his eyebrows at the suggestion. “What, are you a navigator now?”

 

“Is the navigator the one who steers the ship?” Joanna asked.

 

“Not quite,” Jim said, “but they’re linked. You’ve met Lt. Sulu before, and he’s our chief pilot so he does the steering. The navigator reads the map, if you will, and so he or she will set the course. Your friend Pavel is one of our best navigators.”

 

There was a faint flush to her cheeks that he couldn’t help but notice. The tactful thing to do was to ignore it, but file it away to torment Bones later.

 

“That makes sense,” Joanna said. “Well, we want to go to Marcos XII because it’s not that far out of your way, is it?”

 

“Well, it is, a bit…” Jim watched her, frowning, and wondered why she’d have heard of it in the first place. It was a medium-sized colony with its own industry and agriculture, but still reliant on the occasional shipment of supplies from Earth. “I’d think you’d be ready to go home by now, kiddo.”

 

He wasn't too sure what he was expecting by way of response to that. It wasn't too hard to imagine himself at eleven, and having everything he knew light years away. His mom had dragged him away more than once on a trip, and what he'd missed most was his own bed.

 

The problem was, there wasn't even a flinch. Joanna smiled at him, and said, "Eventually, and you can take my dad home, too."

 

Jim sighed, and turned his back to go sit at his desk. He thought he saw motion from the corner of his eye, some kind of movement she made with her hand, but whatever it was, he missed really seeing what it was. He caught a glance at the holos he kept by his desk, at the one of him and Bones as cadets before there was anything really between them. It was the kind of moment that Jim treasured, when Bones' sombre, pissed-off facade cracked to reveal the real man beneath.

 

Those moments were common place now, but there was a twist in Jim's gut as he thought again about what was going to happen now. This disaster was threatening to rip Jim's life apart, and while he really did want Joanna to have the stability she needed, he couldn't fathom a life without Bones.

 

But he couldn't give up the Enterprise.

 

He found himself swallowing hard, his throat suddenly tight and unpleasant, and he realized only after a few moments that Joanna was repeating his name.

 

"I promise I'll come tell you immediately that if I remember anything," she said, when she knew she had his attention again. "May I go now?"

 

He nodded, but had to keep himself seated. He didn't trust himself to walk much further than the desk. It felt like the weight of his future was on his shoulders, and for the first time in years, he wasn't sure he could carry it.

 

*

 

There was a twist of guilt in the pit of Joanna's stomach, and it made her want to throw up as she left Jim's ready room. She'd done what she'd been sent to do, but she wasn't enjoying pulling Jim and her dad into the game. They hadn't been declared enemies yet, and even then, she couldn't shake her doubts. This wasn't like Triacus, and she couldn't be sure about the plan anymore.

 

She found her way back into the mess hall, where the kids were playing with Pavel and he wasn't noticing that from time to time, some of them would wander away. Tommy was sitting there, laughing, but then he sobered, focusing on Joanna as she walked up to him.

 

"What did the captain want?" he asked.

 

Before replying, Joanna glanced at Pavel. He was too busy with the hop-scotch -- made somewhere in Russia, probably -- that he wasn't paying attention to their exchange. She felt sorry for him, and focused back on Tommy.

 

"More questions," she said. "I distracted him, though. He wasn't open to the idea of Marcos XII, but now he will be."

 

Tommy jerked his hand, and suddenly Pavel froze in the middle of his game. The little kids protested, hating that their play was interrupted, but Tommy shook his head at them. "Right now, we have to help the angel."

 

*

 

The investigation was continuing at a steady pace, although Spock found himself concerned that the true meaning behind the disaster would remain unsolved to his own satisfaction. He was a scientist by nature, in search for truth in its purest sense, and on some level that was not too different from a forensic investigator.

 

He remembered his mother being fond of mysteries, particularly the classics from Earth's early twentieth century. They would sit together, with Spock deducing the solution through logic and his mother through what she called "gut instinct."

 

Although he did not inherently share her belief, he did allow that he could feel unease at a situation that logic would not necessarily allow. The fate of the entire Starnes Expedition, barring its progeny, defied his own experience, and although there were pieces that pointed to the truth, Spock felt very uncertain at the current moment in how it was meant to fit together.

 

As Dr. McCoy might be inclined to say, Spock was a scientist, not a P.I.

 

In the meantime, he had information to bring to the captain. Before he beamed up, however, he went to verify how the recovery teams were faring. The bodies that would remain behind on the planet had been buried, and now there was an attempt to remove anything sensitive from the settlement: equipment, data, and some personal belongings that could be returned to families.

 

There were other crew members better suited to supervising this task, but he understood the peculiar circumstances surrounding this mission. Normally, he would've been more content with focusing on the data recovery, but if it would assist in solving the situation, he would do whatever was necessary.

 

"Anything that needs brought up?" Petty Office Sosa repeated the request as she eyed the crates laid out in the central part of the settlement. "Not at the moment, but I appreciate you asking, sir." She was about to step away when she had second thoughts. "Actually, now that I think about it, we did recover a box of records from Dr. Starnes and some of the other archaeologists. It might end up being useful in your investigation."

 

The bin itself was already closed, set aside and marked appropriately. Spock crouched beside it, opening the lid and making immediate note of the data padds and other pieces of equipment. He slipped one into his tricorder, and found the motherlode, as Jim might have worded this.

 

With the bin at his feet, Spock beamed aboard the Enterprise. He ordered the box to be sent to his quarters, and then went off in search of the captain.

 

He found Jim in his ready room, and on a brief inspection, he noticed how Jim seemed distracted. He cleared his throat and was rewarded with his attention.

 

"When did you get in here?" Jim asked.

 

"I allowed myself the liberty of letting myself in," Spock said. "I have made some progress in understanding what transpired on Triacus."

 

"You have?" Jim leaned forward on his desk, watching him eagerly. "I'm glad someone's getting somewhere with this whole mess. The kids are acting odd, which might not mean anything to you at the moment, but it's all got me on edge." There was something else behind his words, and suggested by the troubled line that appeared between his brows in moments such as these.

 

A few years previous, Spock might have derailed any conversation that veered into a Vulcan's private mental health, but Spock had come to appreciate the emotional link between the two selves present within him. He knew he had his human qualities as well as those of his Vulcan half, and after having been provoked into violent action against Jim Kirk, he was more aware of his emotions and felt less likely to want to completely suppress them. He'd come to realize that it did his mother's memory a disservice.

 

"While I have gained insight, it is not as enlightening as I might wish." He set the padd on the desk, preparing it for replay. "I assessed the logs belonging to Dr. Heney, the archaeologist responsible for opening the cave for excavation. He has information that was not included in Dr. Starnes' logs. This is his final entry."

 

He switched on the recording before focusing on Jim's reaction. Heney had been a tall, thin man with intense blue eyes, seeming to look in all directions at once. He also appeared displeased at having to log his progress.

 

“The initial assessment of the cave has been completed,” Heney said to the microphone, “and while the contents of the cave are inspiring most of the enthusiasm here, I admit to being preoccupied with other concerns. I’m particularly interested in how the cave was utilized, and whether it was blocked off by the event that brought this planet’s cities into ruin, or if something else occurred. My first guess was the former, but as I examined the cave, I began to realize that the cave was blocked from the outside. More to the point, this might suggest that there were some members of the race inside when this occurred. I need more assessment before I can properly theorize this to the others, but a part of me wonders if that’s what they sense when they go into cave. The slow, suffocating deaths of the people trapped inside.”

 

Vulcans did not shudder, but Spock could understand the appeal at those words.

 

"Because that's not freaky," Jim murmured, and looked as though a frisson travelled down his spine.

 

"Indeed," Spock said, but then their attention was returned to the monitor where Heney was finishing his report.

 

"There's only one thing puzzling me about this," Heney said, and leaned toward the camera. "It's one thing to be affected by going into that cave. Everyone who's been on that excavation is similarly affected, and yet it's spread beyond that. Even our personnel assigned just to the lab, or to other parts of the site are all acting edgy. That is, everyone except for the kids."

 

Heney stopped suddenly, his head turning toward a direction not visible to the camera lens. His demeanour was that of a man who hoped his last words had not been overheard. "Yes, what is it, Billy? I need to finish this up before --"

 

The recording ended abruptly, and Jim looked at Spock with raised eyebrows. "What was that last bit?"

 

"As near as I can ascertain, the recording ceased because of a technology difficulty," Spock said. "However, there is an unsettling coincidence. Dr. Heney also had a family with him on Triacus, including his young son."

 

"I`m guessing that's Billy?" Jim stood up and paced a bit. "You're right, that's a coincidence. What am I supposed to do about coincidences, Spock?"

 

That was not the type of response Spock expected from his friend. "Captain, Dr. Heney is the body that was found deceased away from the rest of the adults. It is believed he and his assistant died several hours before the rest committed suicide."

 

That made Jim pause. "Did he die the same way?"

 

"Affirmative," Spock said. "Did you not receive the report? I received it on the surface of Triacus."

 

"No, I didn't, even though I told Bones that I wanted updates as soon as they figured things out." Jim frowned as he looked at Spock. "Okay, this is going to sound a little farfetched and pretty illogical, but hear me out, okay?"

 

"I will entertain your thoughts. I am currently contemplating several possibilities that range into the improbable scale of possibility," Spock confided, "simply because there is no other reasonable explanation."

 

"Glad it's not just me," Jim said. "So we have a group of adults who kill themselves after reporting a sudden onset of anxiety bordering on paranoia after opening an archaeological excavation. The kids are unaffected by their parents' death, and were reported to be unaffected by the anxiety. There's missing data, and apparently interference in how the adults were reporting their findings at the time. Plus, the one adult who seemed to be onto something dies before all the rest."

 

"When phrased in that manner, it does suggest a plot," Spock agreed. "In fact, I would suggest that the children are not unaffected as we might assume. Dr. Starnes did report the children were often found in the ruins, particularly in the vicinity of the cave on several occasions. That they would return to the site repeatedly may suggest that they were under some kind of influence."

 

"But by what?" Jim asked.

 

"That is a question I cannot answer," Spock said. "I would also propose the possibility that the anxiety was not completely linked to the cave."

 

"What do you mean?" Jim frowned at him.

 

"We have been attempting to link the spread of the malaise to objects excavated from the cave and processed in the tents," Spock said. "I now believe that to be immaterial, and perhaps even irrelevant to our investigation at this time. Something in the cave posed an influence on the archaeological team, and it was only when the excavation started that its effects began to manifest."

 

"Manifest," Jim repeated, and his shoulders quivered for a moment as though he felt a chill. "Like a ghost."

 

There were possibilities, and there were impossibilities; Spock knew where that lay in his realm of understanding. "While I agree there are disembodied energies, I do not subscribe to the belief in ghosts."

 

"Whatever you want to call it," Jim said, "you have to admit there's something affecting people in particular ways."

 

"At the moment, I am more interested in the physical manifestations of this crisis," Spock said, and rewound Heney's recording to the moment before he reacted to the presence of his son. "I believe there are two avenues I can currently pursue in order to collect more information. I have access to Dr. Starnes' printed records, and I am hopeful I might be able to retrieve the information that way."

 

"It's a start," Jim agreed after a moment. "What's the other thought?"

 

"I find the children's situation more than disconcerting," Spock said. "In fact, if the forensic scan of the computers reveal that the missing files were deleted from Heney's workstation in a time frame that coincides with this recording, it would not surprise me."

 

"You think the kids are covering something up?" Jim asked, eyebrows going up.

 

"At the moment, it seems the most likely explanation for many of the questions we have about what transpired on the surface of the planet," he admitted.

 

"Except for the 'why,'" Jim added.

 

Spock considered that for a brief moment. "I believe that may reveal itself in time. I would suggest that we question the Heney child first, and then proceed to the others."

 

"I'll alert Dr. Dehner," Jim agreed. "She's started working with the kids, but between you, me and the doorway, I'm not sure how much we're going to get out of this exercise. The kids are charming, but it's strange how self-possessed they are. Like they're older than they should be, in a way."

 

"Does that include Dr. McCoy's daughter?" Spock asked. He had never had the opportunity to meet her, and was looking forward to making her acquaintance later. He also had made it an intention to make his counsel available if Joanna needed the confidence of someone who had also lost a mother.

 

"In an odd way," he said, and his words betrayed a deeper worry. "I mean, yeah, she's always had a good head on her shoulders, and maybe a little more worldly than your average kid. And maybe it's because she's spending a lot of time with younger kids, but she's.. she feels younger. She's understandably not acting like her old self, and it's got Bones already worked up into a state."

 

Spock opened his mouth, about to comment on how Jim himself seemed affected, and to ask whether he thought it was the appropriate moment to make his offer to the doctor. The thought remained a simple intention, however, as a signal came from the bridge. Nyota's image appeared on the screen, her professionalism shining through even in a stressful moment such as this.

 

"Captain," she began, "I have a message coming in from the planet's surface for both you and Commander Spock.

 

"Put it through," Jim said, leaning closer to the monitor.

 

Nyota nodded, and the image flickered to show Sosa. She looked eager as she peered at the monitor. "Captain, Commander, we've got a new development that might help clear up a few questions."

 

"How's everyone doing down there?" Jim asked, derailing her enthusiasm for a moment.

 

"How are we doing?" Sosa repeated, brow furrowing briefly. "We're all doing fine, sir, all things considered. We're not exhibiting any of the behaviours that were noticed with the Starnes team, if that's what you mean. We're doing regular check-ins, and no one's reporting anything strange."

 

Spock raised a brow at Jim at the response. "Fascinating."

 

"Possibly," Jim said, but with a distracted tone. "All right, what's your news?"

 

It took Sosa several moments to recollect her thoughts. "Well, sirs, we've managed to work a little more on the cavern you had pointed out. Specifically, it's the non-human members of the team working on the project as you specified, Commander. Starnes' team was only capable of scratching the surface, it seems, and seemed limited to material artifacts. We've found more in there. Skeletal remains, to be more precise."

 

Despite having listened to Heney's log, Jim seemed surprised. He raised his brows raising extensively. "What exactly did you find?"

 

"We're not making any conclusions yet," she said, "but we've located several skeletons. Based on Starnes' notes that we can access right now, most of the remains are likely the race indigenous to this planet. There was another one, though, that was visibly different from the others."

 

"In what way?" Spock asked.

 

"Well, it was relatively intact while the others weren't," Sosa began, "and yet the dating suggests they're from the same period. As to what it is, or how it got there, there is the whole part where --"

 

The connection severed mid-sentence.

 

Jim huffed an exasperated noise as Sosa's image was replaced with a Starfleet emblem. "Well, that wasn't convenient. Kirk to bridge, I need contact re-established with the landing party."

 

The reply wasn't forthcoming, and Spock pushed away from his seat. "That is most unusual."

 

"Yes, it is," Jim said slowly. "Bridge, come in. Lt. Uhura, I want you to re-establish contact with Petty Officer Sosa."

 

Again, no reply. Spock began to move toward the ready room door. "I will investigate --"

 

"Wait." Holding up a hand, Jim rose to his feet, a look of focus on his face. He looked around them, perplexed. "We just went to warp."

 

That made Spock pause, especially since he had felt nothing. "You must be mistaken."

 

"You didn't feel that?" Jim hesitated for a moment, but then shook his head. "No, I know what I felt. That was the little jump the Enterprise does just as she's transitioning to warp. I'd know it anywhere. You really didn't feel anything?"

 

Despite the questions, he wasn't allowing Spock the time to respond. Instead, he brushed past him to walk onto the bridge. As Spock followed, he saw that the viewer no longer showed the now-familiar sight of Triacus; instead, he could see the stars at warp, just as Jim claimed.

 

"Lieutenant Sulu!" Jim snapped. "Why are we out of orbit?"

 

Most of the bridge crew turned puzzled expressions toward their captain, and that was when Spock became aware of a visitor. Tommy Starnes stood next to the command chair, his expression coolly neutral as he watched the adults around him.

 

"Hello, Captain," he said. "Welcome to my bridge."

 

*

 

_He was in a cave, that much he knew. He sat in the dark, eyes full of grit and mouth full of dirt, and tried to understand why his ears rang from an explosion that had deafened him._

 

_Somehow he knew that he wasn't alone, that others were stranded down here. He could hear rustles elsewhere, the faint gasps, and he strained his eyes to try to see. Maybe there was a way out, if all of them worked together to find a solution. Being trapped in here, this had to be some kind of mistake._

 

_They began moving a short while later, trying to orient themselves and keep panic at bay. He knew some of them, but few words were exchanged as they realized the entrance to the cave -- the sinkhole, he knew that -- was now closed; there was air entering from the cracks, but no light and no way solid bodies could make their way out._

 

_He found the body, and with a touch knew it was wrong. The outsider, the pirate who preyed on them. He recoiled from it, realizing it wasn't dead but simply injured. Something of his medical instincts coming through -- but why would that be? -- as he swallowed past his heart that had lodged itself in his larynx; he knelt and knew that this was the reason why there down there._

 

_The others reacted, the fear ramping up as they realized what was trapped in the space with them. He found himself pulled away, unable to resist as their anger turned on their fellow captive, but the first one about to land the first blow dropped seconds before their foot connected. A wail of anguish instead escaped his lips, and the man staggered back._

 

_That wasn't the first, and soon all the belligerents were writhing in fear. The captives left standing -- all of them, himself included, began to feel a drive to dig; using hands, defenseless against the broken pieces of stone, they tried to pull stones away. If anyone hesitated, the smell of damp earth would fill their nostrils, cloying, and the fear of suffocation drove them to continue._

 

_It wasn't going to be enough, he knew it in the exhausted set of his shoulders and the blood coating the stones he managed to work loose and throw away. Others didn't have his stamina, and he heard one expiring after the other -- a gasping, fearful noise -- and the sense of dread grew deeper and all consuming._

 

_And then he felt the whisper of cold breath on the nape of his neck, drawing his awareness away from his desperate work. The world narrowed to that one breath, the whispered word being the last thing he heard before the blast of adrenaline, pounding through his veins one last time, the last thing he felt._

 

_Gorgon..._

 

Leonard jerked upright, his back twitching at the sudden movement, and he blinked at the sight of his quarters. He swallowed past a mouth that still felt full of grit, and stared about him. The regular features of the room, plus the additions he'd made for Joanna, reminded him why he'd toed off his boots and landed face-first on the bed. He was feeling too drained to care about much, and while he probably should've gone to see what Joanna was up to, he knew she was in good hands with Pavel.

 

He just needed a little shut-eye and ideally to dream something that wasn't thoughts of Jocelyn and what a future without the important things in life would be like; he was too drained to worry about anything else.

 

And now he'd had that dream. It left him feeling clammy and disturbed on a completely new level.

 

"McCoy to Kirk," he said, rubbing at his eyes. The sound of his voice made him wince, like there'd been sandpaper rubbed over his vocal cords. He eased himself up and padded across to the food dispenser, getting himself water, and finally frowning when he wasn't getting a reply. Holding the cup in hand, he went to his desk to try again. "McCoy to bridge, come in."

 

Nothing, and that wasn't right. Leonard took another sip, and tried calling the medical bay. "McCoy to Chapel."

 

"What is it, Doctor?" she replied a few moments later.

 

"Just checking in," he said, wondering if he should voice his concern just yet.

 

"How nice of you," she told him, drily. "We're all right down here. We don't need the CMO down here supervising us when he's off duty."

 

Leonard found himself blinking; Christine wasn't afraid of speaking her mind, but this was beyond being blunt. It was the tone of someone who felt they were being micromanaged, and that wasn't how Leonard interacted with his staff. He blinked, and mumbled something before signing off. He didn't have it in himself to snap back at her.

 

Instead, he placed another call to engineering, and Scotty appeared a few moments later. He blinked at the sight of Leonard on the screen, and grinned a moment later. "Doc, what can I do for ye?"

 

"Can you reach the bridge?" Leonard asked, and noticed he was holding onto the edge of his desk with a white-knuckled intensity. He forced himself to relax, flexing his fingers. "They weren't answering my hail."

 

"I haven't tried in a while," Scotty admitted, and leaned out of sight to check his panels. "That's odd, the system seems clear. They should be picking your signal up without a problem."

 

"Well, they are," Leonard grumbled, and then shook his head. "I guess I'll go up there. Wasn't in the mood tonight, but --"

 

Scotty peered at him for a moment. "Listen, when this is over, we'll have someone watch over your wee lass and I'll break out my newest Scotch and we'll sit down. Me, you and the Captain."

 

The offer made Leonard smile despite his mood. "That's awfully nice of you."

 

"Least I can do," Scotty said, and then he looked off screen, his brow furrowing. "Now that's odd, one of the wee bairns from the planet just showed up down here. I'll go make sure she wanders back to Chekov. Scott out."

 

That didn't sound good, and for the first time, Leonard found himself worried about where Joanna was at the moment. He should've been keeping better tabs on her instead of leaving her with Chekov; it was asking too much of a nineteen year old lieutenant to watch over all those children instead of focusing on his usual duties. And what about Elizabeth Dehner's work with those kids? How could she be trying to piece together their histories when they were running all over the decks?

 

Was that why Christine had been so defensive earlier?

 

It was like a breath of fresh air as Leonard went to find his boots, and he changed quickly into a new uniform tunic that didn't look wrinkled and slept in. He headed immediately for the commissary, expecting to find Chekov there with the children using him like a living jungle gym. Instead, he found the room mostly empty, except for Chekov who seemed to be staring into space with a faint, bemused smile curving his lips.

 

"Chekov?" Leonard approached him carefully, and when his voice didn't attract the kid's attention, he reached out to put his hand on Chekov's shoulder. Instead of startling, Chekov slowly turned to face him, his expression almost dreamy. "Are you okay there, Lieutenant?"

 

"Doctor," Chekov greeted, but spoke in hushed tones and held a finger to his lips. "The little ones are sleeping. I just told them the classic Russian fairy tale about Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."

 

Leonard looked at the empty space around them. "You're alone right now, kid."

 

"I am not," he protested. "They are all here. I think the emotions of the day have worn most of them down." He named some of the younger ones, hands moving as though he was smoothing soft hairs from foreheads. "I wonder if they are finally beginning to mourn."

 

"Are you seeing all of them?" Leonard asked, slowly inching away.

 

"All twelve," Chekov said, and pointed to the opposite side of the table. "Do you not see your Joanna there? She's been helpful in watching the little ones."

 

For one moment, he could easily imagine her dark head cradled against her arms, perhaps with a smaller child curled up beside her. Leonard was almost convinced that he could touch her the way Chekov seemed to be doing, and he curled his hand into a fist to resist the temptation. "Right, well, keep an eye on them for me?"

 

The confident smile felt oddly evocative of Leonard's dream, and with a shiver, he realized he really, really needed to go find Jim.

 

*

 

It was the strangest showdown that Jim had ever experienced.

 

He kept his gaze fixed on Tommy Starnes, even as he tried to figure out what was happening to the crew. Hikaru was staring at the viewscreen with an uncharacteristic intensity, while over at the communications station, Nyota had a hand to her throat that suggested something was terribly wrong with her. Spock was noticing it too, and he was trying to make his way around to her side.

 

In the meantime, Tommy stared back at Jim with the levelled gaze of a person years older.

 

"What are you doing up here, Tommy?" Jim asked, with a tone that was supposed to be neutral. Instead, the worry he felt was leaching through, despite his best intentions.

 

"I have to put you back on course," Tommy said, drawing himself to his full height.

 

"What course?" Jim demanded. "My orders are to stay in orbit about Triacus until we're finished, and until I have orders to the contrary, my word is law on this ship. Mr. Sulu, what's our course heading?"

 

Hikaru slowly turned his head to look at him. "We're in standard orbit around Triacus, sir."

 

That wasn't what Jim expected to hear, and he wondered whether anything that wasn't an order could pass through his focus. "Look again, mister, that's not Triacus. That's deep space."

 

This time, Hikaru stared at him a little longer. "Captain, you can check the controls yourself. That's Triacus down there."

 

For a heartbeart, Jim felt himself beginning to doubt his own convictions, and what that mean when a starship captain began to doubt his own capabilities. What would happen if he looked at the panel and found the standard order plotted in with his crew's usual attention to detail?

 

He leaned in, holding his breath, but could exhale finally with relief when he saw that he wasn't imagining things. "Look at those coordinates, Sulu. You've set a course in for Marcos Twelve." He frowned at that, remembering Joanna's earlier questions about the planet, and he looked up at Spock. "Bring us back to Triacus, mister. That's an order."

 

"But we haven't left," Hikaru told him again, looking perplexed. "I can't change what's already there, Captain."

 

"Humour me by inputting it anyway," Jim said, feeling his temper beginning to fray. He caught a smirk from Tommy, and that was it. He needed the kid gone. "Security, escort that child off the bridge, and confine him to the guest quarters. All of them." Even Joanna, he realized, but he couldn't show leniency right now. "Lieutenant Uhura, signal the away team – I don't care how you do it, just do it – with news that we're out of orbit but we'll back as soon as we can."

 

Instead of following his orders promptly as they normally would, he realized that no one was obeying. The security guards didn't budge, and he began to wonder if they were even aware of him as he repeated his command to no avail. He could've been invisible to them for all he knew. Nyota, on the other hand, turned in her chair and faced him with an anxious look; she continued to grasp her throat, but it was clear that she wasn't going to be able to follow through with his orders.

 

"Lieutenant?" Jim asked.

 

She opened her mouth, taking a breath, but whatever was wrong, she quickly shook her head as unexpected tears appeared in her eyes. Spock took the moment to approach her, a hand placed on her shoulder, and she relaxed into his grasp for a moment, looking up.

 

"She cannot speak," Spock reported, his voice gentle as he leaned across to quickly input the commands. "To be more precise, she is afraid to speak."

 

"Afraid?" Jim raised his eyebrows, but there were bigger problems at the moment. He advanced toward Tommy, and realized he was drawing himself up to be bigger and hopefully more intimidating to a child. "Get off my bridge."

 

"You can't make me," Tommy said, with childish satisfaction at proving an adult wrong. Behind him, the turbolift doors opened, and most of the children emerged on the bridge. At a quick glance, Jim counted ten, including Joanna; he couldn't quite read the expression on her face, but she seemed to be avoiding his gaze, focusing on whatever they were planning.

 

The truth was, Jim couldn't help feeling betrayed.

 

He quickly shoved the emotion down where he couldn't feel it, and squared his shoulders. It was a trick he'd learned in Iowa, both in his last days of high school and his roaming the plains of the midwest looking for trouble. He saw Tommy flinch for just a moment, but the kid recovered quickly, holding his ground.

 

"I am the captain of the Enterprise," Jim said in very level terms. "If I tell my security guards to remove you from my bridge, then you'll be removed from my bridge, mister."

 

The only problem was that there was still no movement other than the children gathering together into a tighter formation. This time, Jim felt anger flaring in his chest, and he looked up at the men flanking the doors. Loos and Arrighi, both competent in their own ways, seemed frozen in place. Their faces showed their effort in trying to move, but their feet were fixed to the floor and their arms flush to their sides.

 

"No, they won't," Tommy said.

 

While he knew Jim was watching, Tommy held out his hand to Joanna. She took it, looking past Jim, and then all the kids were holding hands to form a loose circle. Jim saw Spock from the corner of his eye, moving away from Nyota and toward the science station.

 

He wasn't expecting them to begin a chant. It was some kind of rhyme that he didn't recognize, though the rhythm felt ageless and familiar. The tone made him wistful for childhood games, but more importantly, Jim felt insulted they were playing in the middle of his bridge. He stepped forward, ready to break the circle and shepherd the kids away himself, when he realized something new was manifesting in the empty space at the front of the bridge as the children repeated their verse.

 

His first glimpse was only a glimmer, just in his peripheral vision, but there was a sudden spike of anxiety in his chest that shouldn't have been there under normal circumstances. Jim had to fight the urge to cringe away from the sight as an apparition solidified into something humanoid and transparent: a man, dressed in something that could've been a uniform but in a style that Jim didn't recognize. The details seemed smudged, and what seemed most in focus was his face. His features were softened by a smile, directed toward the children that gathered in front of him. Each of them were grinning back at him, making it very clear that this was a cherished role model.

 

But just what was it?

 

"Well done," the apparition said, a hollowed tone to his voice that made it seem to come from everywhere. The children beamed even further at the praise, but none of the crew seemed to notice his presence by Jim and Spock. This had to be the angel they were referring to earlier, and that's what the rhyme had said; but as far as Jim was concerned, this thing looked nothing like an angel. "You have succeeded in taking over the Enterprise, and in less time than we believed."

 

"Excuse me," Jim began, holding up a hand, "but I have to ask, why would an angel need a starship?"

 

The kids barely registered his words, and the angel continued as though he hadn't heard. "This is not the moment to rest on the knowledge of our success, but to remain alert. Stay on guard. We have been discovered by the captain, but this will not stop us. We must arrive at Marcos XII, and we will succeed in our goal."

 

"What about him?" Tommy asked, and now he indicated Jim with a rudely pointed finger. "That's the captain right there, Angel."

 

The being fixed Jim with a stare that seemed to go straight through him, and he shuddered at the intensity. "The enemy has discovered our operation, but it is too late. If they continue to resist, remember their beast. Remember how it was on Triacus, and it will be so here. Even the captain is not immune."

 

Jim tried to interrupt again, but like Nyota, the words felt caught in his throat. They were taking the Enterprise, and he couldn't stop them. The fear suddenly weakened his legs, and Jim felt himself staggering back into his chair. This was it, he was going to loose his ship, and what kind of no win scenario was this? Pathetic, just like everyone had said he was years ago in Iowa.

 

He sat there as the angel disappeared, and then Arrighi was helping him to his feet. Spock came along, accompanied by Loos. They were inside the turbolift, heading for deck seven where their quarters were located. Jim took a deep breath, and with the intake of air, the doubt shrouding his mind began to dissipate.

 

They needed to ditch their escort, and as they turned into the hallway leading to Spock's quarters, Jim found his opportunity in the form of Bones McCoy.

 

"What in blazes is going on?" Bones demanded in a loud voice, hands on hips and scowling. Only a moment later did he realize that Jim and Spock weren't being escorted on anything that might be described as good terms. "Oh, wait a second..."

 

Jim threw back a punch that stunned Arrighi, and the guard staggered back a few steps to land heavily against the bulkhead. Jim followed quickly, determined to disarm him and hopefully incapacitate him when suddenly Spock reached out and gave the guard a neck pinch. Arrighi descended to deck as gracefully as Loos seemed to have landed.

 

"Good timing, Bones," Jim said. "Come on, let's get them into Spock's quarters."

 

"Only if you want them to dehydrate," Bones grumbled, but didn't protest much more until they were behind closed doors. Spock went to find suitable restraints as Jim and Bones crouched over the stunned men.

 

"How are you doing?" Jim asked, and he was really wondering. The circles were still under Bones' eyes, but he seemed more like his normal self.

 

"Confused as hell," Bones said, "but otherwise all right. What the hell is going on with this tin can? Everyone's acting spaced out, and why were you two under guard? Was there a mutiny I didn't know about?"

 

"Not quite accurate, Doctor," Spock said, "but the analogy is workable. There is not time for the complete story, but the Captain will summarize the situation for you."

 

They made short work of securing the guards with the belts from Spock's meditation robes, and while Jim was only giving the highlights, he also wasn't sparing details. "Joanna's working with them, Bones."

 

"I see," Bones said, and the line of his shoulders slumped even further. He nodded slowly, though the motion seemed more automatic than anything else. "So this is an angel they think they've got helping them?"

 

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around," Jim said, "but yeah, that's what they said in their rhyme. An angel that comes to them when they call, but it doesn't look like what I think of an angel. It doesn't have, well, angelic qualities. Wings, for starters."

 

Spock tilted head for a moment. "Many cultures on Earth view angels differently. Some of them do not have wings."

 

"Semantics," Jim said, "but one thing's for sure, I bet none of them reported seeing transparent bodies."

 

"Like a ghost," Bones murmured., and then looked at the two of them, clearly uncomfortable. "Listen, do we even know what we're dealing with? I know this is going to sound pretty outrageous, but what if this is the Gorgon we're dealing with here?"

 

Jim frowned. "The same Gorgon that Starnes and the other scientists were talking about in the ruins?"

 

"Why not?" Bones asked. "There wasn't any odd behaviour until they opened that cave, and there was something in it, wasn't there? There were bodies."

 

"How do you know this, Doctor?" Spock looked spooked.

 

"Doesn't matter," Bones said, a little cagily, and Jim wasn't going to pursue it.

 

"Spock, didn't you say that you were trying to go through the rest of the tapes?" Jim asked. "Maybe there's something more we can learn about them from that."

 

"Agreed," Spock said. "As they are in the science labs, I cannot imagine them being observed in the same manner as the bridge."

 

"And even if it isn't," Bones said, "there's people all over the place acting odd."

 

"Demons," Jim repeated, frowning. "That's what the so-called angel said. If they run into trouble, they're meant to call up the demons, just like they did on Triacus."

 

"Fears and anxieties," Bones said, the look of understanding coming over him. "That makes a lot of sense. I don't know about the two of you, but I know I haven't been feeling like myself. I'm rightfully upset about Jocelyn, but I've had thoughts about her that I really shouldn't be having. Worries and thoughts that had me paralyzed."

 

"We noticed," Jim said, reaching out to touch his hand. The contact felt good, and they exchanged a tight smile. This was the Bones he knew, and it was good to see him again. "The question is, how can we overcome it?"

 

Spock frowned. "It is slower to affect a non-human mind; I suspect that I was overwhelmed on the bridge because of my human side, but I don't see how this might be useful information at the moment."

 

"But it's something," Bones said slowly. "It's the amygdala that controls emotions like fear, and from what I know Vulcans usually have a stronger control over that part of their brain that comes from years of training. In other species, it's structured differently, and affected by different chemicals than humans. I might look into that and see if there's something I can pull together."

 

"That's an option," Jim said, considering his options. "What we really need to do right now is take back control of the ship."

 

"It wouldn't take much to come up with something that dulls the amygdala's ability to produce a reaction to fear," Bones continued.

 

"And I would very much appreciate the opportunity to understand what it is exactly that we are up against," Spock said. "I intend to investigate the records in the science lab, perhaps to provide more information on what befell the Starnes Expedition."

 

"Do you think there's a link between the Gorgons and what's happening now?" Jim asked. Beside him, Bones suddenly shivered, and it immediately drew Jim's attention. "What? You look like someone just walked over your grave."

 

Only once the words were out of his mouth did he consider how awful that might sound, but Bones didn't seem to notice. "I think there's a direct link. Listen, I don't really want to explain how I know, but I think that whatever it was that you saw, this angel, is the same thing that Starnes and his people were excavating."

 

Spock's eyebrows rose. "Those ruins are several centuries in age, Doctor."

 

"I know," Bones said, "and I said, I don't really want to explain this, but I think that we should consider that as a distinct possibility. It found a way to keep itself alive in that cave down there."

 

"How?" Jim asked, because that was sounding farfetched.

 

"Probably feeding off energy of some kind," Bones said. "You found bodies down there, right? Or the excavation did. I think that the Gorgon had some of these talents you've mentioned already, and in some kind of crazy bid to survive, it managed to do just that by using the life energy from the other people trapped in that cave."

 

Jim stared at him. "Where are you getting this?"

 

"It doesn't matter," Bones said, dropping his gaze for a few moments, but he couldn't break contact for long. "The point of this right now is that I need to find a way to dull its effect. The Gorgon probably lived off anything it could once the Triacans were dead. Bugs, worms, whatever it could get its figurative hands on. Like an energy vampire of sorts."

 

They stared at each other. "Is it feeding off the children?" Jim asked.

 

He saw Bones' shoulders tense, and a terrified expression crossed his features that he was only able to hide a few moments later. "I don't think so, but I don't know for sure." His voice sounded rough. "I sure as hell hope not, but there's also the consideration that he's using them. Children can be taken advantage of, especially if they're groomed by someone older and wiser that they respect. There's also peer pressure. Sometimes it can happen really easily, and I think that's what we're seeing with the kids."

 

"Even against their own parents?" Jim asked, and he couldn't stop himself from putting forth the next logical question even though he didn't want to hear the answer. "You really think that Joanna would stand idly by as Jocelyn and the other adults died?"

 

"Under normal circumstances," Bones said, looking haunted, "I'd say absolutely not. Right now, I think that's exactly what happened."

 

And it might happen again. Jim saw that Bones was thinking the same thought, and he reached out to grasp his hand, squeezing tightly. "We'll figure this out."

 

"I know," Bones said, sharing the moment, and then he looked at Spock. "We need to starve the Gorgon from its energy source. It feeds on energy and emotions, and that's not too far apart on the scale of things. If we want to get this ship back under our control, we've got to find a way to put that goddamn monster on a permanent diet."

 

That made Jim smile. "That we can do. Spock, how long do you estimate we have until the Enterprise reaches Marcos XII?"

 

"Presuming that Mr. Sulu has not been given new instructions," Spock began, a faint frown marring his forehead. "Approximately two-point-six hours. Again, assuming that our speed has not changed."

 

"Well, you could check the computers but it wouldn't surprise me if you're locked out of that," Bones said. "Communications are down, too."

 

"Of course they are," Jim muttered. "Well, gentlemen, I think our plan's pretty obvious. Spock, keep getting that intelligence. Bones and I are going to go synthesize something in the lab --" and he made sure to ignore Bones' eye roll at that "-- before heading over to auxiliary control. From there, we take over the ship, sedate a few people, and then we'll take back our ship."

 

"You make it sound easy," Bones murmured. "Aren't you going to say something equally inspiring like 'lock and load' or something?"

 

"That's so cliché," Jim said.

 

Spock inclined his head slightly, considering for a moment. I believe this would be an appropriate time for the phrase, 'Let's roll.' Even if it is not, in fact, entirely accurate."

 

That was the magic word, and Jim clapped him on the arm. "That's the spirit. We'll be in touch."

 

*

 

She hadn't voiced the thought yet, but Joanna didn't plan on going with the kids to Marcos XII. When they arrived and the Angel began to recruit for his new army, she wanted to withdraw and go her own way. She hadn't decided how she'd back away, but figured an idea might come to her when it was time. That's how Jim seemed to work, anyway, when it came time for decisions.

 

Maybe the Angel would let her, Jim and her dad go and live happily ever after. She'd done her bit, anyway.

 

She didn't want to entertain alternatives.

 

For the moment, the bridge was secure, and Tommy seemed to be the one who wanted to be in charge. That suited his personality, and how he wanted to think that he was the Angel's best follower; she personally thought the Angel wasn't supposed to play favourites. There were better places to go, that much she knew, and a part of her really wanted to go see her dad.

 

After all, he'd probably be the one person who'd understand the necessity of belonging to something bigger than himself. That's what he'd told her years ago when he was first enrolled in the academy. That right now, he needed to be involved in something important, where his contribution might be enough to change the universe in some small way. Back then, she'd been trying to adjust to a life without her dad; now, she thought she truly understood.

 

Maybe she could explain it to him, in the length of time it took for them to arrive at Marcos XII.

 

A rumbling in her belly compelled her to head for the mess hall. She wanted a quick bite to eat, and she also contemplated whether she should bring food for the kids who were too busy doing the Angel's bidding instead of eating. She'd pick up a few things for some of them – but never Tommy -- before going to see her dad.

 

Pavel was still there, immersed in his demon, and Joanna did feel bad about that. She averted her eyes and walked past, but she couldn't help hearing the Russian which sounded completely foreign to her ears and yet there was a puzzled tone that she couldn't miss. She wanted to bring him out of his dream, but she couldn't. It wasn't time to snap him out, and she really regretted having to walk away. She hoped he wouldn't be too upset later when he realized what was going on.

 

The same with her dad, for that matter, but she didn't have reason to worry. The angel would fix it all, or so she was trying to believe.

 

"Joanna?" The small voice coming from the side of the room drew her attention away from Pavel, and she quickly spotted the little body hiding under a table. It was Jonah, a round-faced kid who was one of the youngest in the group; she wasn't sure what his parents were doing on the archaeological dig, but he was a frequent tag-along with the older kids.

 

"What are you doing under there?" she asked, crouching next to the table and peering at him. His face was pale and streaked with tears. "Are you playing a game?"

 

Jonah shook his head quickly. "I don't wanna play anymore, but they're making me."

 

"So you're hiding instead?" She drew her knees up to look at him closely. "I'm guessing you don't want to be found, and don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Why don't you want to play anymore?"

 

The tears began welling up again in his eyes. "I miss my mommy."

 

"Come here," she said, and Jonah crawled out to plaster himself against her side. She pulled him closer, and as he wrapped his little arms around her shoulders, she wondered what was the right thing to say. She didn't blame him for missing his mother, because she certainly missed hers, but there was a reason they were doing this that possibly wasn't clear to him. "The angel says it's going to be okay in the end."

 

The words didn't sound real to her, like she wasn't really saying them, and Jonah let out a tired whine. "I don't care."

 

The other kids might've tried to convince him to keep participating, but Joanna didn't have the heart. She hugged him. "You should get some sleep, maybe. I bet we could find a place where you could do that without the others bothering you."

 

His only reply was a nod against her shoulder, so she decided to ignore her hunger pains at the moment, and eased herself upright. Jonah hung on, but seemed to be getting heavily. His tears were still coming, and as she adjusted her hold on him, he sniffled loudly – almost into her ear. "I don't have my mommy now. Where'm I going when we get our army?"

 

The plan had never been discussed, not really, but it was easy to envisage them staying and helping to create the new army once they reached Marcos XII. A part of Joanna was interested in the idea that she could be their medic, or a leader on her own if she wanted to try something else. Tommy would insist on being the general, or the admiral, or whatever rank he wanted to use for that purpose.

 

But there was a voice in her mind – that sounded an awful lot like her dad – wanting to know how long they would last. The army would grow, and it would move to do whatever the angel compelled them to do, but the kids themselves weren't going to stay young. A shudder ran down Joanna's spine as she suddenly imagined herself as Pavel, trapped in an imaginary world and used to do the angel's bidding.

 

"Let's go," she whispered. She walked past Pavel, with every intention of coming back, and hurried to Sickbay. It was the best place she could think of, better than the quarters given to the children, or even her dad's. They could take care of Jonah, and protect him from the other children and maybe even from the angel while she tried to figure out what to do about the situation.

 

That is, providing they didn't find her first.

 

*

 

Despite having a mother and brother who were in the sciences, Jim had never been inclined to pursue the practice unless it was forced upon him in school. He knew his way around a lab, but he wasn't exactly comfortable working in one.

 

Luckily, Bones was there to direct him. It wasn't the first time Jim had watched him in the lab, after a few late nights at the Academy when he'd head over to the medical research building for a lack of better things to do. Unlike those times, though, Jim was actually being put to work by an otherwise distracted Bones.

 

"And now what?" Jim asked.

 

Bones looked up, blinking. "You finished that?"

 

Jim looked down at the processor, and at the lights indicating that it was doing its magic. "Well, my part's done. It's not finished yet."

 

"It won't be for another few minutes," Bones said, and straightened up, stretching out what had to be kinks forming in his back. "If this works out, we should have the serum ready."

 

That was good news, and well within the time left before they reached Marcos XII. Jim pulled up a stool, and then noticed that Bones was looking haggard again; it wasn't clear how much of that was the pressure of the situation instead of the alien influence.

 

"How are you doing?" Jim asked.

 

Bones sighed. "I'm worried. I should be doing a trial to see whether this works or not, but we don't have time. The dosage should be straightforward but the question is whether it'll even work the way we want."

 

"I'll be the guinea pig," Jim said.

 

"I don't think that's the right thing to do in this situation." Bones rubbed at his face again, and sighed. "Look, I doubt it'll be anything too severe if it's not right, but it shouldn't be you. We won't get the ship back under control if you're the one passed out on the deck because I didn't get it right on the first try."

 

That sent a panicked bolt through Jim's chest, and he found himself feeling faint at the idea of being physically incapacitated while the Angel -- or Gorgon or whatever it was -- used the Enterprise for its own purpose.

 

"What if it's not the right dose?" Jim asked. "You're the doctor, Bones."

 

"So I've been saying since I met you," he said with a faint smile that seemed forced. "Hopefully it won't be anything too adverse, but if the worst happens, go get Christine and tell her what happened. I'd have her in here right now, but I don't want to have to deal with whatever the creature's making her think right now. We're having trouble being clearheaded on our own."

 

That didn't sound promising, and Jim reached out to lay a hand on Bones' shoulder. "Is it getting worse?"

 

"Which worry?" Bones asked. "That we're all going to die? Sure. That my daughter's going to stand by while I possibly kill myself, and not care that it's happened? Of course."

 

Under normal circumstances, Jim would've done everything in his power to convince Bones that his fears were baseless, as much as his former fears about flying. This time, there wasn't anything rational he could use to distract Bones from his concerns, and if anything, that made Jim's spirits sink lower in tandem with the bleak expression on Bones' face.

 

"We aren't going to die," Jim said instead. "Not me, not you, and not anyone on this ship."

 

The smile on Bones' lips wasn't reaching his eyes, and if anything, he looked like he was moments from tumbling into the same pit of despair he'd be in earlier. "No-win scenarios happen, Jim."

 

"Not for me," Jim insisted. "Listen, you're being affected again. I think I am, too. Whatever reprieve we had is over."

 

His words coincided with the machine beeping, and Bones frowned as he took out the dose. He slipped it into the hypo, and handed it over to Jim. "Here we go."

 

"Are you sure about this?" Jim asked.

 

Bones' eyes looked dark despite the bright laboratory lights. "Just do it, and let's hope that it works on the first try."

 

"Here's hoping," Jim murmured, resisting the urge to cross his fingers, and held the hypo in place against Bones' neck. He met his gaze as he counted to three, and then pressed down on the plunger. He held his breath, watching as Bones reached up to touch the injection site, and looked to be about to say something – probably a snark about his technique – when he suddenly went down like a bag of bricks.

 

It happened almost too fast, and Jim barely had time to grasp him and make sure that Bones didn't hit his head on anything. He barely had time to remark on how unsettled he felt, and how much he needed the comfort of smoothing back Bones' bangs from his forehead while feeling for his pulse. The pace felt fast under his fingers, but nothing too erratic and the skin was comfortably warm.

 

"More warning next time?" he muttered, patting Bones fondly on the shoulder once before forcing himself up. It was a few steps to the door, and then he was peering out into Sickbay. The activity seemed particularly sedate, even more than it should on a quiet day; the on-duty staff were absorbed with more than just their duties. "Nurse Chapel? I need you here right now."

 

His voice made a difference. Across the bay, Chapel seemed to surface from her thoughts. Jim could see her blink several times, as though she was taking in her surroundings with a certain amount of calm surprised. When she looked his way, her eyes were shadowed, but she was alert.

 

"Captain?"

 

He beckoned her over, but even after he ushered her behind the closed door, he wasn't able to get a word in. She was quickly down at Bones' side, checking his vitals and giving Jim a sharp look.

 

"Failed antidote that he wanted tested on himself," he explained.

 

Chapel clucked her tongue, and reached over to grab a tricorder. She ran it over Bones' body for a moment, and studied the analysis with a critical eye. "It's meant to block certain signals from reaching the amygdala?"

 

"Basically," Jim said, and filled her in with the details as he'd come to understand them. He quickly followed with the theory of what they suspected was happening, and as he spoke, he could see that she was understanding how desperate the situation had become. "And that's why we made this antidote."

 

"At least he told you to come get me now," she said after shaking her head. "I can say pretty safely this isn't going to do any damage, but it's had the effect you were looking for. Bring him over to a biobed so we can keep an eye on him, and I'll finish what you started."

 

She helped him get Bones upright, and with one of his arms slung over Jim's shoulder, it was a fairly easy ordeal to drag him out into the main part of the bay. Jim huffed, adjusting his arms and legs into what he hoped would be a comfortable position. Bones wasn't reacting, and Jim shook his head, stretching his arms against the strain, when movement from the main entrance made him pause and look.

 

His heart sank, recognizing Joanna immediately. She was carrying one of the smaller children in a piggyback ride, and there was a determined look on her face that he'd seen on Bones' face any number of times. Her pace faltered, however, as she caught site of her father lying on the biobed, and the gasp of horror that she gave was enough to make him reconsider whether this was a bad thing.

 

"Is he okay?" she asked with wide eyes. She set the kid down on the ground, and went to grasp her dad's hand.

 

His first instinct was to tell her that everything was fine, and that Bones would be rousing soon enough. He still wasn't sure about the change in attitude, however, and he decided to test out the situation a little further.

 

"Shouldn't you be occupying the ship?" he asked, and winced because that came out wrong.

 

She was suddenly close to tears. "Jim, I think I messed up."

 

That was more emotion than he'd seen since she first arrived, and that decided it. He walked around and pulled her into a hug. She clung to him without letting go of Bones' hand, and he murmured an apology for his words. When he felt her give a shuddering sigh, he stepped back enough to get a look at her.

 

"How are you doing?" he asked her.

 

Joanna gave a tiny shrug. "I don't know."

 

"Are you finished with the games?" he asked.

 

She nodded. "I never meant to hurt anyone. I just thought... I don't know what I thought. It just made sense at the moment, but everything's all wrong now, Jim." Letting out a shuddering sigh, she looked at Bones again before glancing back up at Jim. "Am I going to lose him, too?"

 

There was genuine fear in her voice, and he couldn't help but take pity on her. "Not if we can get this ship back under control. Will you help me? I need to get back onto the bridge."

 

Joanna glanced at the younger child. "Tommy's been too hard on the little ones, but that's only because the angel isn't letting them stop. Jonah needs to stay here so that the others can't find him. Can we do that?"

 

"The medical staff will take care of him," Jim promised. "Do you think you can get me back onto the bridge?"

 

"Do you think my dad will like you involving me in this way?" she asked, hesitating.

 

"Probably not," Jim admitted, "but you're already involved, kiddo. I intend to end this situation before more people get hurt. Right now, I'd appreciate any help I can get. Spock's on it, but I need someone with inside knowledge. That's you."

 

She took a slow breath, and then nodded. When she met Jim's gaze, there was a weary expression that shouldn't have been present in an eleven-year-old girl's hazel eyes.

 

"I'll do it."

 

*

 

To ensure that he couldn't be disturbed, Spock keyed the door to the computer lab with a code only comprehensible to someone familiar with the intricacies of Vulcan linguistic constructions. Even then, it would never be an easy code to break, and so he was able to work without interruption on attempting to piece together the various threads of intelligence about the situation on Triacus.

 

Even despite his enforced solitude, he felt himself growing even further aware of the attempts to broach his subconscious mind. The human portion of his psyche felt shaken by the barrage, and he felt himself thinking about Nyota's condition on the bridge. The expression of fear on her face was one he hoped never to see again, and yet the memory replayed itself in his mind, distracting him from the work at hand.

 

Each time, it was slightly more difficult to regain control; the voice that sounded like Dr. McCoy in his mind reminded him that even Vulcans weren't invulnerable to everything. He resisted the urge to sneer, and instead refocused on his work.

 

Most of the recordings had degraded somehow, a fact that disturbed him since the buffers showed no sign of corruption. At least on the Enterprise, he had the computers available to perform forensics on the data retrieval process. However, as time was pressing, he was growing impatient with the small amount of information he was gathering.

 

To concentrate his efforts, he focused his efforts on recovering the records from Doctors Starnes and Heney, and upon further consideration, he included Dr. Dufresne to the list. While the latter was a new arrival, there were perhaps data that was more accessible from his notes than the others.

 

As he waited for the latest segment to complete, he was suddenly overcome by a vision -- a fantasy, really -- of the hope he'd had of introducing his parents to Nyota. While his father had since come to know her, and had even extended his approval, Spock often found himself presenting himself with possibilities. Most were positive, and helped him to partially come to terms with his mother's early demise.

 

This version, however, was anything but.

 

_The dining room was designed with Vulcan sensibilities in mind, but always with the clear understanding that there were certain nods to human tastes. As far back as Spock could recall, there were nods to Amanda's preferences in ways that he would at times find too much, a reminder that he wasn't fully Vulcan himself. The rose, elegantly staged in a crystal vase that was a priceless heirloom, always featured prominently as the centrepiece._

 

_Tonight, it substituted for a line dividing the table in two unequal halves: Amanda on one side with her silvered brows drawing down over dark eyes, and Nyota on the other with her shoulders stiff and almost drawn to her ears. Sarek sat with a perplexed quirk to his brow, silent at the display of tension between the two humans, and otherwise unwilling to intercede with his diplomatic tact._

 

_This was never how he imagined their first encounter – although on some level he found himself unsurprised with Sarek's inaction._

 

_It was a civil dinner in every other way; idle conversation passed, the condiments passed with polite words, but the tension lay heavily among them like a debilitating fog._

 

_"I don't like her," Amanda said, her eyes flashing as she pulled her son into the kitchen after requesting his help with the dessert. "She's only using you to further her career, can't you see that?"_

 

_"She is not," Spock said._

 

_"It's not logical," she countered. "I'm speaking as a concerned mother, Spock. I'm delighted you're in love with her, but think about this. She's a cadet, one of your former students. This is a breach of etiquette, don't you agree?"_

 

_"Nothing untoward happened while she was in my class," Spock said, knowing he was flushing slightly green. "I made sure to follow the protocols, Mother."_

 

_"Did you?" Amanda eyed him carefully for several long moments, clearly assessing him in ways he never fully understood. A mother's intuition, she'd claim when he was young, and while he understood behavioural observation as a means of gauging behaviour -- he certainly had enough experience as an instructor at the Academy -- it still unnerved him that his mother knew him so well, despite the Vulcan training he'd undergone throughout the years to control his unruly human half. "No, I'm sure you did all that you could, but you just can't see it, Spock."_

 

_"There is nothing to see," Spock protested._

 

_"You've convinced yourself there isn't," she said firmly. "If you won't see reason, Spock, then I haven't any other choice."_

 

_His gut gave an unfamiliar clench, and what might be called a cold sweat broke onto his skin. The reaction was far from logical, but he couldn't help himself. "Mother?"_

 

_When she looked at him again, he felt certain he had never seen that particular expression before, and it played on every fear he'd experienced in his life. "You aren't welcome if you bring her with you. Am I clear?"_

 

Before he could respond with words he couldn't yet form, a hand touched his and interrupted his vision. Spock blinked, finding himself again in the lab with Jim Kirk standing in front of him. Behind him, her hazel eyes wide, was a child who could be none other than Joanna McCoy.

 

It took several moments for Spock to resume his neutral expression. "I did not hear you enter."

 

Jim seemed likely to say something smart, but it was Joanna who answered. "We came in quietly, maybe that's why."

 

"Perhaps," he agreed, and then recalled the full details of their situation. He felt his eyebrows raise as he turned to Jim, suddenly fearful that their efforts had been compromised beyond repair. "May I ask what has transpired?"

 

"Don't worry, she's with us," Jim said, with an arm around the girl's shoulders. She leaned into him, looking up at them as Jim brought him up to date. Despite his confidence in turn of events, Spock still felt uneasy at her presence. "Bones also came up with a way to stop the alien from messing with our heads. We've both been inoculated, and if I'd known you were being affected, I'd have brought some for you, too."

 

Spock felt himself straightening. "It was a temporary lapse that will not happen again."

 

Although he seemed doubtful, Jim chose not to pursue the topic. "So did you find anything new that might be useful?"

 

"A large amount of data remains corrupted," Spock said, "but I have recovered segments concerning the Gorgon."

 

Jim moved closer to the computer. "What have you got?"

 

His assertive tone helped to quell the frayed ends of his concentration, and it took only a quick touch of a key to bring up the data onto the screen. "The earlier notes suggest that there was a cult of Gorgon, but later results from the excavation were proving that conclusion to be incorrect. Instead of adoration, there was fear associated with the name, and I believe that Dr. Heney would have had more information had his notes not been deleted."

 

"The Angel told Billy to do that," Joanna said softly. "He told us to do a lot of things that we did. It made sense when he said it."

 

Jim drew Joanna into an embrace, and looked at Spock. "So the people on Triacus were afraid of the Gorgon."

 

The screen displayed the image, representing a humanoid from a perspective that looked foreign to Spock's eyes. "That is what Starnes believed the Gorgon may have looked like. I have compared it to my scans of the unknown skeleton we uncovered in the cave, and I believe with ninety-eight-point-three percent probably that they are from the same species."

 

"Why were they so afraid of them?" Joanna asked. "They don't look that scary. It doesn't even look that much like the angel."

 

Spock examined the figure for a moment, and conceded her point. "The image may not be totally representative," he explained, "as we are receiving this based on the opinion of another species. There is also the possibility, Joanna, that your angel has chosen its appearance based on its attempts to coerce you and the other children to do its bidding."

 

"If it could choose its appearance," Jim added, "it could look any way it wanted."

 

"But how could it do that?" Joanna looked up at him. "When we were getting ready to come here, Roderick told me that all this happened years ago. When there were Vikings on Earth and when gunpowder was being invented. How could they be the same thing?”

 

“I don’t know,” Jim told her, crouching down so he was facing her directly. He remembered Bones trying to puzzle it out not even an hour earlier, with a look that suggested he knew something that he wasn’t ready to share, and he had to push it out of his mind. “We can worry about that later, after we have more information, and once we’re out of danger.”

 

She nodded, and glanced at Spock. “So what do we do?”

 

Jim bit his lip, and then he had a thought. “Spock, is there footage from Triacus that doesn’t have anything to do with the digs? Personal clips about the families?”

 

An eyebrow went up, but Spock wasn't going to challenge where Jim was going. “There is some, yes.”

 

“Make sure you can get access to it on the bridge,” Jim ordered, and smiled at Joanna again. “You ready for your first mission?”

 

She nodded, hazel eyes wide. “When do we go?”

 

He waited until Spock nodded, and then they were ready. “Now.”

 

*

 

There was little interference between the lab and the bridge, and Jim found himself holding Joanna’s hand for the ride up the turbolift. She glanced at him once, an assessing look that he’d often seen on her father’s face in the past, and then let go seconds before they arrived. She squared her shoulders and stepped forward onto the bridge within moments of the door opening.

 

The scene hadn't changed all that much since the kids had Jim removed, except now Tommy was sitting in the centre seat. The sight of him lounging there would've made Jim's anxieties grow and consume him earlier, but with the shot, he just felt irritated at the way the kid presumed he had everything under control – and the kid wasn't even ten yet.

 

Tommy turned at their entrance, and his eyes widened at the sight of Joanna with the two officers. "What are they doing back here? They're supposed to be kept out of the way until we reach Marcos XII."

 

"I'm not playing anymore," Joanna said, "and neither are you.”

 

The expression on Tommy’s face darkened, and he shook his fist at her. Her back straightened at what was obviously meant to be an attack, and instead Joanna smiled at him when nothing happened and Tommy stared at her, astonished.

 

“Why isn’t it working?” he demanded, and tried it again to no avail.

 

“Your games aren’t going to work anymore,” Jim said, stepping beside Joanna and hoping it would distract from Spock moving toward his station. “It’s time to stop the games, Tommy. We’re not going to Marcos XII.”

 

Tommy sat forward, feet dangling from the front as he attempted to look defiant. The other children gathered closer to him, but some of them were looking at Joanna with questioning looks. “We’re almost there. The crew’s taking us because they believe in what we’re doing.”

 

“They believe in what they’re seeing the imaginary things in front of them,” Jim said. “That’s all that they understand, and when we make them understand as I understand now, they won’t take you to Marcos. None of them will.”

 

A kid Jim now recognized as Billy stepped closer to the chair, his face flushed with angered. “They will so! We’re following our friend there!”

 

For half a second, Jim felt tempted to engage in a “did not, did so” argument he remembered having as a child. He focused instead on the moment, and on Billy’s words. “You keep mentioning your friend, this so-called angel. Where is that stowaway? Why is he hiding when you’re all doing the work?”

 

“He’ll come if we call him,” Tommy insisted, “but we don’t need to. We’re not afraid of you.”

 

“You’re not?” Jim took a few steps forward, and scooped the boy under the arm to swing him onto the deck. Tommy wasn’t too heavy, and he glared up at Jim as he reclaimed his seat. “Well, that’s good, you don’t need to be afraid of me. On the other hand, your leader is afraid. What’s he so afraid of?”

 

Billy crossed his arms over his chest, a huge pout on his face. “He’s afraid of nobody.”

 

“Is that so?” Jim asked. “Because I think he’s afraid to be seen, and when the crew sees and hears him, they’ll understand that he’s not their friend. They’ll remember what happened on Triacus, and they won’t want to follow him. That’s what your angel is afraid of.”

 

There was a chorus of heads shaking a negative, but a few were beginning to edge away in confusion. Tommy spotted the movement, and shouted at them, “He _is_ our friend!”

 

Jim leaned forward, elbows on his knees, feeling like he was in public school and challenging the bullish kid in his grade. “Then he needs to show himself. Call him back. Let him prove to me that he’s my friend, and if he is, I’ll follow him all the way to Marcos XII and to the ends of the universe.”

 

But they weren’t about to repeat the chant, staying stubbornly in place. Joanna bit her lip for a moment, and reached out to the children. “Let’s call him.”

 

“It won’t work for you!” Tommy told her, trying not knock her hand away, but she pushed him back.

 

“Don’t touch me,” Joanna told him, eyes narrowed. Something about her tone made Tommy pause, and it was enough for her and the few children to gather into a circle and begin the chant.

 

"It isn't going to work," Tommy said, trying to drown them out in a voice that was trying to be certain and authoritative, but there was a childish quiver that made Jim think the kid might be on the road to a temper tantrum.

 

That suited Jim just fine.

 

The Gorgon flickered into existence a heartbeat later, as the group gathered around Joanna began the second verse. The rest of the group moved toward Tommy, as though expecting him to protect them from whatever was coming.

 

"Who has summoned me?" the Gorgon asked, looking from face to face and focusing on Joanna's. "My child, what have you done?"

 

"I'm not your child," she said, voice tight. "I'm also not afraid of you."

 

"Nor am I," Jim interjected, deflecting the attention just in case. "Our beasts are gone, they've lost their power in the light of reason. We've ordered you here."

 

The Gorgon seemed to smirk, the image wavering for several long moments. "No, Captain Kirk. I command here. My followers are strong, faithful and obedient. That's why we take what's ours wherever we go, and that includes your ship."

 

"Is that a fact?" Jim asked. "Look around you."

 

Spock stepped forward. "You take from those who do not know you."

 

"And we definitely know you," Jim said. "We know all about you, and who you are and what you intend to do."

 

"Do you?" The Gorgon simply smiled. "Then you know I must win, Captain, and I shall succeed."

 

"Not if we join together to fight you," Jim said, and he held out his hand to Joanna. She broke the circle with the other children, linking him in, and he could see the smaller kids looking up at him with wide eyes.

 

Something about the Gorgon's face seemed to flicker, the resolution weaken. The creature showed its teeth and sneered. "Foolish. You will be destroyed and devoured. I would ask you to join me, but you are weak. Gentleness is weakness."

 

Joanna shook her head. "No, it's not. It makes us strong."

 

The sneer turned on her. "You are a child, what do you know of strength? You think you are strong, but in face of adversity, all those who were kind and gentle were consumed by my desire to continue. You are like your parents, full of weakness, and you must be eliminated."

 

Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and Joanna shook her head vigorously. "No, not this time."

 

Squeezing Joanna's hand for support, Jim glanced back a Spock, nodding, before addressing the kids. "Children, we've found pictures of you on Triacus. We'd like to show them to you. Mr. Spock is going to put them on the screen."

 

The main viewer in the front altered to show what were home-made films from the archaeological team – a picnic, from all appearances, in the clearing on the other side of the settlement from the ruins. Jim recognized most of the children, and judging from the time stamp on the lower corner, this had happened months before Joanna's arrival with her mother and stepfather. He felt himself smiling, and focused instead on the kids gathered around him.

 

Most of them seemed caught up by the memories evoked by the images on the screen; even Tommy didn't seem immune and his eyes seemed to mist over as a woman who had to be his mother hugged him close on-screen. Spock was watching them, too, and when Jim caught his eye, nodding just slightly, the image on the screen changed to the inside of the mess hall and at the carnage leftover from the mass suicide.

 

He'd figured the children hadn't known exactly what had happened to their parents, and this just proved Jim right. The smaller children gasped, and a few started crying. Joanna wasn't looking at the screen, but there were tears rolling down her cheeks, and she crouched down to hold the little girl next to her. More than one kid began to look questioningly at their angel; the spell was breaking.

 

The Gorgon flickered again, losing substance and looking less whole. "We had no choice. They would not help transport us. They were against us."

 

"Many of the adults began to recognize you," Spock said, "but they were too late to intervene."

 

"They would never have stopped me," the Gorgon boasted. "You are also too late. The kind ones always are, and for that reason, they are to be eliminated."

 

More children were crying, and one of the boys – Billy, to Jim's astonishment – had latched onto Jim's leg and was sobbing into the fabric of his pants. Jim put a hand on his shoulder, and stared at the angel. "They're recognizing who you are, Gorgon. You can't hide from them anymore."

 

"You are my future generals," the Gorgon said to the children, in what was supposed to be a motivational speech if Jim had ever heard one. His voice sounded compelling, but his form was altering too quickly into something else – something unrecognizable – that scared the children instead of inspiring them. "Together we can raise armies of followers. Go back to your posts. Our first great victory is upon us! You will see. We have millions of friends on Marcos XII. We shall exterminate all who oppose! Our purity of purpose will never be contaminated by those who disagree, who will not co-operate, who do not understand. They must be annihilated."

 

They were the wrong words to win back his followers. Jim knelt down, prying Billy from his leg with a supportive arm around the boy's shoulder, and addressed the whole group. "Don't be afraid. I want you all to look at him. Without you, all of you, he's nothing."

 

The kids turned twelve sets of teary eyes toward the apparition, and under the full brunt of their gaze, the Gorgon wasn't able to keep its shape. Whatever humanoid form it had began to melt away, revealing something horrible beneath the surface – decay, rot, and pure malice.

 

The Gorgon knew it, too. For a few moments, it grew in size, towering over them, its face thunderous. The children cowered, and Joanna cast Jim a worried look as the Gorgon raged. "I command you! To your posts, carry out your duties, or I will destroy you! You will be swept aside to make way for the strong."

 

Jim let out a laugh, and the children glanced at him. "Look at him. He's desperate. He needs you more than you need him. Look at him and don't be afraid."

 

One of the children let out an anxious giggle, and Joanna shook her head. "He isn't really much of anything, is he?"

 

Tommy stepped up beside her, looking confused and maybe slightly alarmed. "Why did we think he was an angel?"

 

"A trick," Jim said.

 

Worn out from his last efforts to force the children back under his control, the Gorgon railed at them all the while he slowly grew transparent. "I am not finished with you yet! Death to you all!"

 

And then he vanished.

 

There was a pause on the bridge, and then like a breath held too long, the atmosphere changed. Jim glanced around, watching his crew as they surfaced from their demons. Hikaru shook himself from staring at the screen, and Nyota nervously cleared her throat.

 

"Captain?" she asked. "I think we need some tissues."

 

Jim surveyed the weeping children, and nodded. "Yes, I think we do." He patted Billy on the shoulder again, and reached out to touch Joanna's shoulder. "You did good, kiddo."

 

The bridge doors opened, and Bones stepped onto the bridge with Elizabeth Dehner. A dazed Pavel Chekov followed behind them, a puzzled expression on his face. Jim let out a sigh of relief, glad to see his partner upright and looking more like himself. Joanna straightened up, and when her father approached, threw her arms around him. The little girl she was holding latched on, too, and it threw Bones for a few moments.

 

"Hey," Bones murmured to her, kissing her forehead, and then glanced at Jim. "Did I miss something?"

 

That made Jim laugh. "Just a little fuss, nothing too much."

 

Dehner, in the meantime, was holding another little girl who was crying openly. "Captain, they're crying. I don't know what happened, but it's good to see they're beginning to grieve."

 

"Now they can," Jim agreed. "Let's get them off the bridge and into Sickbay, shall we?"

 

They started herding the children toward the turbolift, but Hikaru's voice called Jim back. "Captain, what are our orders?"

 

In the fuss, he'd almost forgotten. Jim paused, still holding Billy, and nodded. "Reverse our course, Mr. Sulu, and let's go pick up our people on Triacus. Lt. Uhura, send them a message to know that we're on our way, and alert Starfleet as to what's just happened. Mr. Spock, you have the bridge."

 

The chorus of acknowledgements was music to his ears, and Jim resolved that as soon as the children were settled, he'd go change his shirt.

 

*

 

The quarters were darkened when Jim entered. He could hear music playing, soothing and quiet, and spotted Bones sitting with Joanna in the middle of the sofa. She was sprawled over her father, face pressed against his shoulder and her hands fisting the fabric of his tunic. She also didn't stir at the sound of the door opening, though Bones looked at him with a tired smile.

 

"How's she doing?" Jim whispered.

 

"I don't know," Bones murmured, glancing down at her. "She's feeling guilty, for sure, and of course it's really hitting her that Jocelyn's gone. She cried for a while, which is good."

 

"And how are you doing?" Jim asked, reaching up to brush the hair from Bones' forehead.

 

"I'll be all right," Bones said. "Eventually, anyway, though right now I think my arms have gone to sleep. There's calls I need to make, and there's all the paperwork for my leave of absence."

 

"The paperwork's done." Jim leaned in for a kiss. "I did it before coming down, but it's for three months. If you need more, we can ask for it. They're not exactly going to say no."

 

"Thanks," Bones said softly. "I haven't talked about this with Joanna yet, but I think what'll happen is that we'll have her stay with my mama for a while. Jocelyn's mother is still around, too, and maybe whichever grandmother she prefers will get to take care of her. I also could ask my sister, but I haven't ventured there yet."

 

"Will three months be enough?" Jim asked, worried.

 

"We'll find out," Bones said, but then hesitated when Joanna stirred, sighing. "Hey, sweetpea, maybe we should put you to bed where you'll be more comfortable."

 

She mumbled something unintelligible, lifting her head to blink bleary hazel eyes at her dad. When she realized that Jim was sitting with them, she dropped her gaze to stare at his hands. "I was dreaming about my mama."

 

Bones let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Joanna."

 

She peeked up at them for a few moments. "She'd be mad at me. She is mad at me." Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes were welling up again. "It's all my fault."

 

"As hard as it might be to imagine," Jim told her, quietly, "I think your mom knows that this was a situation that went over your head. I don't think you could do anything that would deserve you to lose her love. Wherever she is now, I'm sure that's what she thinks."

 

"And I still love you," Bones added. "I'm so relieved that you're okay, and that we're all okay."

 

Joanna sniffled, looking like she was struggling to believe him. "Are you just going to send me away?"

 

"Not a chance," Bones said. "Heck, if it were allowed, I'd keep you here with me on the Enterprise, but that's not an option for us right now. Maybe one day they'll let families stay on starships, but for now, I'm going with you back home and we'll find a solution that works for the both of us."

 

She nodded for a long moment, and then finally looked at Jim in the eyes. "What happens to the other kids?"

 

"Just like I said earlier," Jim said, and handed over a few tissues that he'd snagged. Joanna took them gratefully and blew her nose loudly. "Dr. Dehner was working to find their extended families and to get in touch with them so they'd have somewhere to go."

 

"I guess I'm luckier than most of them," she said, hushed.

 

Jim didn't dare voice any of the what-ifs that had worried him earlier. "Yeah, I guess you are. Remember my promise years ago to make sure that your dad stays as safe as I can make it out here? That goes doubly now."

 

"Thanks," she murmured, and then shifted so she was placed between them, taking comfort from both of them. That's how they stayed until she fell asleep, and even then, it was a long while before either of them moved.

 *find*

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be my contribution to the Star Trek Big Bang 2012, but a herniated disc, computer problems, and grad school made it impossible for me to finish. I took what I had, and completed the story now.
> 
> The story was inspired by watching the original episode, and wondering how things might be different in the AOS universe. Some dialogue, and of course, the background of the episode is based on Edward J. Lakso's original screenplay.


End file.
